The Teacher
by MyMoony
Summary: Set in PoA. To Severus's dismay Remus Lupin has a strange influence on him which he can't explain or withstand. Soon this influence transforms into a bond which he fears to tie. As the year proceeds will Lupin find a way past Severus's defences? SSRL. R
1. The Smiles

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: I just needed to write a Harry Potter fanfiction again and i had this idea for my favourite pairing (though I do like RL/NT). The story is told from Severus's PoV and there will be quite some insight into his mind at all times. I tried not to make this AU and actually it isn't, though I didn't really go into the SS/LP situation, not that I don't like it but I couldn't quite fit it into this story and I found it just a little overdone. I liked the idea that Severus isn't as cold as he seems, though, that fact was good for the development of the story. I used all the knowledge that the 7 books give us, so there shouldn't be too much, maybe nothing at all, which couldn't have happened in that short third year. I enjoyed thinking about ways to explain Severus's behaviour as it is described from Harry's PoV in PoA, therefore in later chapters there are bits of dialogue taken from the book. More chapters to come.

**Edit: **I've rewritten chapter one, I didn't really like it the way it was. Still not perfect, but better.

**The Smiles**

Usually the start of a new school year was a good thing for Severus, for he could escape Spinner's End for another year and return home, or the closest he had to a home. This year, though, Dementors were guarding the entrance to the castle and passing them without feeling downright horrible was simply impossible. It was nothing new that Potter spoiled his mood, but all summer the papers had reported without pause about the spectacular break-out with which Sirius bloody Black had terrified wizarding Britain. Though nobody talked about it, everyone seemed to know where he was going. To Hogwarts, to kill Harry Potter. And one thing was sure, if Severus crossed his path, one of them wouldn't survive it. All in all a good thing, if it wasn't for the Dementors. Severus thought that nothing could worsen his spirits more than the knowledge of his arch enemy's freedom. The Dementors did. Still, when Severus had arrived at Hogwarts Castle a few hours before, he had thought that it would be just another one of those years, in which he was turned down by Albus and had to watch another idiot fighting his way through the Defence job, teaching the students nothing at all and annoying Severus to the extent of exploding while everyone knew that he would only stay for one year.

This year he had hoped that Albus had finally run out of dunderheads who volunteered to do the job, for he had long run out of competent volunteers for the position. Lockhart had been the last straw. Surely that meant that there was no one left who could possibly be appointed for the job? But as usual, Severus had been disappointed. As usual, Albus had shaken his head with an apologetic smile when Severus had approached him after Lockhart had been carted off to St. Mungo's and the holidays had started.

"I'm afraid there's already someone else I have asked, Severus, and who has kindly accepted. Very kindly if I may say so. Not that I would have expected otherwise. The circumstances required it."

"Another incompetent fool, no doubt," Severus had snapped petulantly.

Albus had smiled under his white beard and there had been that gleam in his eye that told Severus that he wouldn't like the new teacher. "Quite the contrary, I might say, you will agree with me that he is a far better candidate than dear Gilderoy," a slightly amused chuckle had interrupted him and he had continued, "oh yes, indeed."

"Well, who wouldn't be," Severus had muttered, leaving the Headmaster's office.

Severus took his usual seat in the staff room – the armchair before the fire – and started to get irritated immediately. When McGonagall passed him she gave him a curt nod but seemed to be avoiding him. He hated it when she avoided him. It always meant there was something going on he didn't know about. And in fact he hadn't yet been told the name of the mysterious new staff member. He didn't think it mattered much, though, he would be rude to everyone and he would be rid of them in a year. And really, who could be worse than Lockhart? But Severus was mistaken. There was someone worse than Lockhart. Much worse.

When the door opened Severus didn't look up, Albus was always last to arrive, and he wanted to show him that he was still angry about not having been given the Defence job. Even though really being angry was becoming increasingly difficult, too much time had passed. It was merely a stubborn indignation now. That changed when Severus noticed that everyone was walking towards the door and a voice could be heard greeting them that Severus couldn't seem to recognise even though it sounded strangely familiar. His curiosity won over his stubbornness and he looked up. He thought he must be dreaming. And it was a nightmare.

Right there beside Albus, or rather half hiding behind him in the doorway, stood – and Severus came closer to check it twice – Remus John Lupin. Truth be told he was not the same as Severus remembered him: he looked much older, even had grey hairs, he was unhealthily thin and his robes were shabby and darned, but it was Lupin alright. Though he hadn't seen him in twelve years, Severus knew his face well.

Now it was official, Albus had gone mad. Severus had always suspected it, especially after Lockhart, but this made the fraud look like a good choice. How could Albus have kept something as important as Lupin's employment from Severus? After all, Lupin wasn't only one of the people Severus disliked most in the world, he was also a werewolf. And appointing a werewolf as teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts was not just questionable it was … no, Severus had to admit, the real point was that it was Remus Lupin. Who had once almost eaten Severus alive. Who had been Black and Potter's best friend. And now that Black had miraculously escaped from prison … It was a shock.

Not so for the other teachers. Apparently Severus was the only one who had been left in the dark. That was typical of Albus. He hadn't even asked Severus for his consent, knowing that he wouldn't receive it. And now it was too late. And Severus was angry. He marched towards Albus and Lupin; the latter was being welcomed more or less cheerfully by the others. He shoved some of his colleagues out of the way while the anger inside him grew with each step.

As he drew nearer, he attracted Albus's attention and the Headmaster's eyes twinkled in an annoying way before he spoke. "Ah, Severus! May I present you with our new Defence Against the –" Albus began but was run over by Severus's angrily raised voice.

"You can't be serious, Headmaster!"

The other teachers backed off, knowing how Severus could explode, but though Lupin seemed mildly surprised by Severus's reaction, he didn't move an inch. "You told me that Severus had been informed, Professor Dumbledore," he said in a hoarse voice. He sounded much older, too, but he was very calm. And this calm made Severus even angrier.

"How daft must you be if you think I would _ever_ agree to _you_ being employed?" Severus snapped at the werewolf who raised his eyebrows but didn't respond.

"Severus," Albus said in a warning tone. "Neither of you would have agreed if you had known the truth. So let us call it warping the facts."

Severus wanted to retort something but suddenly he remembered another, rather casual conversation he had had with Albus while they had been leaving the castle for the holidays. And he scowled to himself because he had missed the obvious hint. But really, who could have foreseen something like this?

"Have you read the article about that newly invented potion," Albus had said, "what was its name – ah – Wolfsbane Potion, I think. It prevents werewolves from going savage …"

"Of course. Quite sensational," Severus had replied, trying to hide his respect for the revolutionary break-through of that show-off Damocles Belby with his Order of Merlin.

"Have you looked at it? Do you think you could brew it? As I understand it, this Potion is especially complicated."

Severus had given him a look. "I can brew every potion."

"Of course you can."

Now Severus cursed his big mouth. It hadn't even occurred to him that Albus might be implying something. He couldn't just accept it like that.

"How could you take him of all people? I'm _astounded_ that you didn't even consider asking me –"

"_Severus_," Albus interrupted him impatiently and Severus fell silent, "I took the one man that I thought best for the job. It was my decision and if I remember correctly I am the Headmaster of this school and that is why you will respect my choice of staff! And now enough of your complaints!"

Severus was boiling with anger. He hated being told off like a child. Albus came closer to him and said very quietly, "I told Remus that you would brew the Wolfsbane Potion for him, that is why he agreed to come here, and I have full trust and confidence in your abilities. That is why I also have full trust and confidence in Remus's abilities to teach at this school. I will supply you with all the ingredients you need so, please, Severus, do not disappoint me."

Severus looked at Lupin and hoped the contempt he felt was visible on his face. He wondered how Albus imagined this to work. Even Lupin's mere sight made Severus sick. The kindness in his eyes in the face of Severus's anger was simply provocative. Severus was sure it was meant to be.

"I'll do my best, Headmaster," hissed Severus between clenched teeth and Albus nodded, obviously satisfied.

"I never doubted that, Severus."

Lupin smiled then, a smile that was somewhat odd. But Severus didn't know what it was that seemed strange. "Well, I thank you, Severus," said Lupin with disgusting familiarity.

Severus wrinkled his nose. "I'm not doing this for _you_," he snarled but it didn't have the expected effect on the werewolf who only raised his eyebrows.

"I thank you nonetheless."

Severus glared at him. Lupin was far too relaxed for his taste. He could at least show that he was a little intimidated by Severus, but nothing Severus did or said had any effect whatsoever on him. He was relaxed and friendly. And that smile on his face never changed. It was a mystery. And despite himself Severus felt interested in what lay beyond it.

"I heard about the Dementor on the train," said Albus. "You fended it off?"

Lupin's face darkened. "Yes, but poor Harry fainted. I gave him some chocolate but I fear it rather scared him. It is irresponsible to let them run wild."

"I quite agree. Good you were with the children, Remus. This is going to be a hard time for all of us, I'm afraid. But for the safety of the students –"

"Student," Severus interrupted and earned himself a disapproving look from Albus.

"Well, now that everything is settled, I believe we all need a good dinner. Let us go into the Great Hall," said Albus loudly and the teachers trooped out of the room after him. Lupin didn't move. He accepted the words of thanks from McGonagall for saving her students with one of those mysterious smiles. Then he turned his eyes back on Severus who hadn't moved either.

"Well, then I hope we will get along well," he said with a little smile that was so unlike the others that Severus was startled for a few seconds.

"Hope can be treacherous," he replied coldly.

Lupin's smile widened and he shrugged. "And it never dies," said he and his voice was soft.

Severus glared. It was shocking indeed. A werewolf – _the_ werewolf – teaching at Hogwarts, giving Severus additional work in the form of a potion without which he would rip his rooms apart, and on top of everything Severus was confronted with all the memories of his unpleasant childhood. Severus still couldn't quite believe it. But what was even more shocking was the fact that despite his hatred of the man, Severus couldn't help but find the soft curve of his jaw, the kind expression in his eyes and his unwavering smile rather agreeable. Rather nice to look at. It made him livid.

Severus wondered how he could make that smile disappear, for he couldn't bear it. "Life hasn't been kind to you, has it, Lupin?" he said when the werewolf made to turn away. He had an irresistible urge to insult him. Lupin stopped and Severus continued, "Those robes of yours … aren't you feeling ashamed to come here looking like that?"

Lupin turned round and met Severus's glare with his amber eyes. Yes, amber, indeed, not merely usual brown… but what did it matter? There was something in them that almost made Severus step backwards. "It means nothing to me. And I'm surprised that it does to you," he replied calmly and made Severus feel somewhat uneasy.

Then he left and Severus was so annoyed and angry that during the whole feast he couldn't stop shooting him hateful glances. He started wondering how he was supposed to stand Lupin's presence for a whole year without killing him. Lupin would have to watch his step.

After the feast Severus returned to his quarters, frustrated and tired. He shed his robes on his way to bed and let himself fall into the sheets with a heavy sigh. The Dementors, Black's escape and now Lupin on top of everything. This year would be even worse than the last and the year before that and … every other year, actually. How could Albus let a werewolf into the castle? A werewolf who would surely help his escaped friend Black to fulfill his plan of killing the Potter brat? Not that Severus didn't approve of that plan. He sighed again. No, this wasn't about Black or Potter, this was about the fact that Albus had appointed a man who had helped making Severus's childhood hell. He felt betrayed. He would have to talk to Albus. First thing in the morning.

He pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes. And thought of Lupin's face. He couldn't help it. This was something irrational that couldn't be suffocated by his dislike. It was inexplicable. There was something in those eyes and that smile, in that soft face that made Severus feel … no, impossible, he shouldn't even think about that. But it was there, no doubt, a feeling he couldn't suppress. It was inappropriate and unwanted. But something about Lupin had Severus see him even when his eyes were closed. And his mere sight made his anger cease. And yet he hated the man, he loathed him for it. And now he had to bear his terribly relaxed behaviour and his annoyingly mysterious smiles. The smiles.


	2. Husky

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Husky**

It was early in the morning when Severus left his quarters to talk to Albus about his mistrust for Lupin. He didn't encounter anyone on his way to the Headmaster's office and when he uttered the password ("Chocolate Frog") the gargoyle in front of the winding steps which led up to Dumbledore's quarters hopped aside and let Severus pass.

As he knocked on the door he heard some shuffling noise behind it and it swung open to reveal a cheerful Albus Dumbledore beckoning him inside with a broad smile.

"Yes, my boy, I thought you'd come to see me. Sit down," he said, when Severus glided into the room.

"Headmaster," he said walking over to Dumbledore's desk but not sitting down. "I wanted to inform you of my concerns about Lupin."

Albus tapped a teakettle with his wand and set two cups onto the table. "Have a seat, Severus. Lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a tin full of sweets to the Potions master.

"No," Severus growled and remained standing, looking down at the older wizard with narrowed eyes. "Please, listen, Headmaster, I really think that you should reconsider his employment."

"Really?" Dumbledore said, paying only little attention and seeming entirely uninterested.

"Yes," Severus replied forcefully. "There are many reasons for you not to let him teach here. First off, he is a werewolf –"

"I believe we have overcome that obstacle, haven't we Severus? Or do you feel incapable of brewing the potion, after all?" Albus interrupted him in a pleasant voice.

Severus wished his ego were only half as big, maybe then it would have been possible for him to just say that he did feel incapable. But he couldn't. Because he wanted the old man to know exactly right that he was one of the few potioneers who could indeed brew that potion. And somehow it was a good feeling to have Lupin depend on him.

"I am capable of it but –"

"Well, then it's no problem, is it? Cup of tea? And please do sit down, Severus."

"Headmaster," Severus said with knitted brows, already losing his patience. "I still think that letting a werewolf live in the castle is not wise. What if the parents find out? They'll –"

"Well, they won't, will they? Absolute secrecy is what I made the staff swear. And you. Years ago. I expect you to keep to it," Dumbledore interrupted again and Severus's face darkened. "And with your skill in potion-making, I am sure you will provide safety for all of us."

"Making compliments will not convince me to change my opinion, Headmaster," Severus snarled. "Apart from his being a werewolf, he is Black's old friend, too. So how do you know he won't help him accomplish his mission?"

Dumbledore looked up, a dangerous gleam in his bright blue eyes. "I have full trust in the man, Severus. And I have learnt from the past that trusting Sirius Black and not Remus Lupin was a mistake. I won't make it twice."

"But, Headmaster, I still think we shouldn't just trust him blindly. What if he was Black's partner all along and just wasn't caught?"

Albus smiled a little. "Isn't that very constructed, Severus? Maybe you should finally let go of your old grudge."

Severus grew angry at that. "This has nothing to do with my –"

"Severus," Dumbledore said dangerously and the younger wizard flinched, "_sit down_." And this time Severus did. "Listen closely now, my boy, because I will only say it once: I invited Remus Lupin here because I think that he is the best man to protect Harry and the one man that I trust not to help Black. Let me finish," Albus said when Severus opened his mouth to contradict him. "Yes, he was Sirius Black's friend but you forget that he also was James and Lily's and of course Peter Pettigrew's and because of that I am sure he will do all he can to help us protect the Potters' son, whom he held when he was still just a baby. To him it is an obligation and an honour and he assured me he would take the task seriously. Apart from that he's always been good at teaching," he paused to sip on his tea but Severus didn't dare speak again. "And have you never looked at it from this point of view: Remus knows Black well which means that he might foresee his steps or at least provide us with some useful information about him. So you see, I've thought it through quite thoroughly."

Severus kept quiet for a while, took a gulp of the much too sweet tea and reached for the lemon drops, taking one. "Yes, Headmaster, I see," he said, rolling the lemon drop around between his fingers. "I still have my doubts and I'm not sure if Lupin will survive this year, but… I respect your decision."

Albus beamed. "I knew you'd understand, Severus!" he said choosing to ignore Severus's obvious threat against Lupin's life. "Why don't you have some more tea?"

"Thank you, Headmaster…" Severus muttered and stuck the lemon drop into his mouth.

The rest of their meeting was mostly filled with silence and meaningless conversations until they took off to breakfast in the Great Hall together. When they sat down at the High Table Dumbledore nodded and smiled at Lupin who was already seated beside Flitwick and the werewolf returned the gesture with a grin. Severus rolled his eyes and Albus leant over to him. "Try not to be too mean to him, alright, Severus?"

Severus glared at him. "Do not demand too much, Albus, I'm warning you."

Albus turned away with a chuckle.

The day was quiet, only disturbed by the news of Harry Potter having been told he'd die soon by Professor Trelawney and Malfoy's accident with Hagrid's favourite Hippogriff. The first was brought to the staff room by Minerva McGonagall sitting down beside Lupin to tell him about her last Transfiguration class with the Gryffindor third-years.

"They were distracted all lesson and when they didn't applaud at my Animagi-Transformation I knew something was wrong."

Lupin, sitting with folded hands opposite of Severus at the table, listened carefully and Severus thought that he'd seen the werewolf flinch a little at the word Animagi, though he couldn't figure out why. Maybe he had just remembered their own Transfiguration classes when McGonagall had transformed into a cat and Black had stormed in much too late, treading on her tail. Severus smirked at the image of Black in his head, being screamed at and sentenced to a week's detention.

"Then Hermione Granger told me that they had had their first Divination class and of course I knew what was wrong. Sybill had predicted another death. Does that every year you see. It's kind of a ritual of hers by which she greets her new classes."

Lupin chuckled lightly and his husky voice sent a thrill up Severus's spine, annoying him once more.

"Anyway, can you guess who it is this time? That boy has all the bad luck in this world," McGonagall continued and Lupin frowned.

"Not Harry?" he asked and Severus raised his head, looking over to the pair, suddenly interested.

"Of course," the woman cried throwing up her arms in frustration. "Sometimes I wonder why I am surprised that she doesn't have any sense in her, what with Black being after the boy not to speak of the other dark wizards he has to fear. Why couldn't she have picked someone else?"

"I wouldn't be so displeased if this time she were right with her prediction," Severus said, causing the other two to look at him disbelievingly.

"Severus!" Minerva snapped. "Don't say such things, you don't mean that."

Severus heaved a sigh. "Well, maybe just a little. Maybe he could just almost die. Good riddance…" he added, muttering under his breath. Lupin turned to Minerva again without commenting Severus's words. He was lucky he didn't.

"And how did Professor Trelawney arrive at the conclusion that Harry will die?" he asked with a worried expression on his face.

"Well," McGonagall sighed. "She saw the Grim in his tealeaves. Or that's what she says."

"The Grim?" Lupin muttered in a strangely distant voice. "You mean that… that black dog?"

McGonagall nodded with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, yes… the worst omen of death, haunting churchyards etc., etc.," she trailed off when she saw Lupin's sorrowful expression. Or rather upset than sorrowful, Severus thought and sat up straighter in his chair.

"You don't believe in that, do you, Remus?" the Transfiguration Professor asked and Lupin's head shot up, his face brightening immediately.

"Oh, no, of course not, I um… was just thinking about the shock poor Harry must've had. Excuse me, please," and with that he got up and left, making the same upset face again. Severus and McGonagall exchanged surprised looks and the Potions master leant back in his chair again propping his chin up on his fist. Did Lupin really believe what that fraud Trelawney had predicted? Or was it something else?

But there wasn't much time to ponder since a short time after that Flitwick stormed in, bringing the news that Draco Malfoy had been attacked by the Hippogriff Buckbeak, Hagrid's favourite. Severus buried his face in his hands. Couldn't the fool do anything right? And in his first lesson, too. Somehow it was hard not to feel any sympathy for the half-giant. And Draco, Severus supposed, had probably provoked the accident. What a good start into the year, Severus thought, when he walked back to his quarters that evening. He had left dinner early to be able to test a new potion and therefore didn't expect to meet anyone on his way into the dungeons, so it surprised him when a hoarse voice called his name and fast footsteps approached him from behind. Severus whirled round to see the blasted werewolf coming his way, obviously determined to spoil his quiet evening.

"Severus," Lupin said with a smile that Severus answered with a loathing glare, to show him how unwelcome he was. But it didn't work. "The Headmaster sends me. He said you wanted to see me about the potion."

Severus's glare darkened even more. The old man really had to watch his step. "Did he, now?" he growled and Lupin nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"I hope he told me the truth?"

Severus rolled his eyes and said in his most disinterested voice, "As a matter of fact I do have some configurations to make, so the potion will work properly for you. Why not gather the information for them now. We don't want any accidents, do we?"

Lupin nodded in agreement and gave him another smile. "Follow me," Severus snarled and turned round walking into the direction of his office, Lupin following at his heels. When they had arrived at their destination, Severus held the door open for Lupin and stepped inside after him. He lit a fire in the grate and sat down behind his desk taking out quill, ink and parchment to take notes. He didn't offer Lupin a chair so the werewolf remained standing in front of him.

"Your weight?" he snapped and Lupin looked bewildered for a moment before he answered.

"Um… I think… about 55 or 60 kilos?"

Severus looked up at him. Was the man really that thin? He couldn't see it with the wide robes. It didn't matter anyway, he thought, so he just copied down the numbers.

"Height?"

"5.8'"

"Age, 33…" he muttered and wrote it on the parchment. "Allergies or sicknesses?"

"No and no," Remus smiled and watched Severus write it down.

"That should be it," the Slytherin said, getting up from the desk.

"Really?" Lupin asked pleasantly, looking around at the many jars with for him obviously disturbing contents. "There won't be any of _that_ in the potion, will there?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Would you refuse to drink it if it were so?" he asked hoping the answer would be yes. But no such luck.

"Oh, I would but… it's disgusting," the werewolf chuckled uneasily and Severus was taken aback by the pleasant sensation it incited in his stomach. He glared at Lupin for doing that to him and walked over to the door to throw him out. "Don't worry there'll be nothing like that in your potion and now leave! I want to try and spend the rest of my day in a useful way, which I can't while you are here."

Lupin turned towards the door, smiling still. "Okay, I get it. If you need any further information, you know where to find me," he said and left.

"Be careful the Grim doesn't catch you!" Severus called after him and was delighted to see him flinch. Then he slammed the door shut and stormed into his quarters, cursing under his breath. He had again had such strange feelings and it made him angry, furious. Very furious. He hated the man, so why did his body think that it needed to get in the way? Was the werewolf that attractive? He had never really paid attention to the man. But that was a lie. He had looked at him, watched him before. At school. As a boy. Before he had almost been eaten by the other. But now everything was different. He shouldn't shiver when Lupin laughed or feel fuzzy when he smiled. He should hate him with every ounce of his body.

Severus couldn't concentrate on brewing anymore so he decided to call it a day and retire to his bedroom. When he lay down he thought he heard his husky laugh and sat upright again in a split second. But then he realised it had only been in his imagination and started glowering. Now that man even followed him to bed. The werewolf really had to watch out, otherwise Severus couldn't guarantee for his safety. He wanted him gone. Needed him gone. And he would do his best to make him leave. When he drifted off to sleep his dreams were filled with his husky laugh and annoying smile. His laugh. So husky.


	3. Intriguing

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Intriguing**

It was Thursday which meant double Potions with the Slytherin and Gryffindor third-years. And that meant Harry Potter. Which meant again that Severus's mood was very low already in the early morning, when he got out of bed, rubbing his face to clear his mind from the dreams that had haunted him during the night. That insufferable laugh of that insufferable man! And his golden eyes seeing right through him and that smile, never changing, never. That face, always friendly and cheerful, his politeness never faltering even towards Severus. Even in his dreams. They had been very vague dreams, mostly sounds. Mostly laughter. Not just Lupin's chuckle. He hated laughter. He hated it when they laughed at him.

Severus pushed himself off the bed angrily. He didn't want to remember. And now every time he saw Lupin's face, he had to. And every time he heard Lupin's laugh… but no, Lupin had never laughed at him, had just been there, doing nothing, looking away. He hadn't approved. But he hadn't intervened either. The anger turned into a dull ache. He could have done _something_.

He walked into the bathroom and, looking into the mirror, his own black, cold eyes staring back at him, he splashed some cold water into his face to get rid of the drowsiness and his husky laugh ringing in his ears.

As the Potions master was making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, his face stern and indifferent as ever, his black robes billowing in his wake impressively, he smirked at the sight of some first-years jumping out of his way with frightened looks on their faces. His mood rose a little and when he swept past Lupin, who was walking rather slowly towards the High Table, he didn't even notice. But Lupin did.

"Oh, good morning, Severus. I have already been wondering why I was here earlier than you," Severus heard his hoarse and disgustingly cheerful voice say. The Slytherin rolled his eyes and his mood dropped again when Lupin caught up with him. "You must be up at the most indecent hours. You are always here before me."

Severus shot a poisonous look at him. Again without the required effect. Lupin kept smiling, meeting Severus's cold onyxes with his warm ambers, obviously entirely unimpressed. And there at the High Table sat Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling into their direction, obviously enjoying the sight of them together.

"Could we skip the small talk and get back to silence? Because I have not the slightest desire to chat with you about my daily habits," Severus said in a low threatening voice.

But Lupin smiled on. "Ah, I see," he said but not in an offended tone at all. It was so annoying! It was as if Lupin just ignored all the hatred that filled Severus's every word, his every look and gesture when directed at him. It made Severus sick. Why was the other so calm, so unaffected? He had always been friendly and had never lost his temper at school, either, a quiet and intelligent boy that hadn't quite fit into the show-off team Black and Potter had formed. But he had never failed to flinch or look hurt whenever Severus had shot a snide remark at him. Lupin had always been affected by Severus's unfriendliness. Why not now? What had changed? Since when was he so relaxed? All the other teachers except Albus and McGonagall were scared of him and avoided him, so why not Lupin? It was a mystery to Severus and he hated the way it drove him crazy.

"Well, enjoy your breakfast, Severus," the blasted werewolf said politely when they had reached the table, and went to his seat on the other side. The Potions master watched him walk away and sat down slowly, never taking his eyes off the werewolf who sat down between Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. There was something about him, apart from his hair and his robes and his voice, that was different. Different from the last time they had met before the war had ended. His smiles seemed genuine, but were they really? Severus narrowed his eyes when he saw Lupin smile at McGonagall. There was something about him that seemed forced, wasn't there? Again his stomach felt fuzzy and he blamed it on being hungry. Shaking his head at himself and rubbing his eyes he turned away from the werewolf to his plate.

"A Boggart? Is that true? Yesterday afternoon?" Lupin's excited voice sounded over to him. "That is excellent! Exactly what I need for my third-year Gryffindors! Um, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Remus?" Albus answered cheerfully.

"May I ask you to leave the Boggart in the staff room? I will take care of it with my third-year class this afternoon."

"Of course, Remus. Wonderful idea!"

"Thank you, Headmaster."

A Boggart, huh? Not the wisest creature to choose if you want to keep your secret, Severus thought smirking and shoveled some scrambled egg onto his plate.

His Potions class went as usual, he bullied Weasley and Potter and displayed Longbottom's incompetence in front of the class. Or he tried to and would have succeeded if the know-it-all hadn't interfered. It lifted his mood a little when he took five points from Gryffindor but somehow he still felt as if the day would only get worse.

Having settled down in his favourite armchair in the staff room after lunch he was soon disturbed by Lupin and his class, whose arrival was announced by Peeves's loud singing of his old rhyme "loony loopy Lupin" which was followed by a banging noise and the poltergeist's cursing. Obviously Lupin didn't let everyone get away with insulting him anymore. Nevertheless, Severus would risk it. A few moments later the children entered followed by their DADA teacher, and Severus was forced to leave after a few snide remarks about Longbottom which again didn't affect Lupin at all; rather on the contrary since the werewolf gave him a rather effective retort that made him curl his lip. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, though, so he didn't give anything back. It would only have been frustrating anyway, seeing him smile or raise his eyebrows with a calm reply on his lips, looking up at Severus with those tranquil golden eyes without being offended or agitated. Besides Severus didn't want to be humiliated by the way he didn't affect Lupin or the way the blasted werewolf was so quick-witted.

He imagined all kinds of ways to get rid of him, many of them would have landed him in Azkaban, though, so he decided to give up on it for now. Instead his mind obviously enjoyed showing him pictures of the werewolf. The way he would raise his eyebrows at Severus's words, or the way he smiled instead of backing off, or the way he replied with a slight chuckle in his husky voice, as if they were having the most normal conversation. He stood his ground, not letting Severus intimidate him, as if to show him that they were equals. He let him know every time their eyes met. Every time those golden orbs held his own pitch-black stare, not giving in by looking away. Actually, Severus thought, ignoring the shiver that ran through his body, his new self-confidence was kind of intriguing. It made him… more interesting than the other dunderheads that came across Severus every day. It made him attractive. Severus stopped dead at that thought and had the sudden urge to bang his head against the nearest stone wall. Attractive? No, that wasn't what he had meant to think. He didn't know where that had come from.

Severus took a deep breath to clear his mind and resumed his way to the dungeons. Lupin and he were not equals! And his obtrusive manner of trying to involve him in conversation annoyed Severus every time. Sometimes Severus thought that he was doing it on purpose, just to make him angry. But that wasn't like the werewolf at all. At least it hadn't been like him when he'd still been a boy. And somehow Severus didn't really believe it, either. But what else could it be?

Still appalled by his own mind's thoughts, Severus spent the rest of the day in his laboratory, getting a bit of work done for his seventh-year Potions class. He didn't want to see Lupin, or hear him. Never again. But since that was impossible if he didn't want to resign, keep the Azkaban prisoners company or commit suicide, which were all unacceptable possibilities, he might as well familiarise with the Wolfsbane Potion. And hopefully he would be able to improve it over the following weeks and maybe months. So he sat down with Lupin's data and the potion recipe, starting to write down the little changes in the amount of some ingredients. When he arrived at the werewolf's weight he hesitated. 55 – 60 kilogrammes. Much too thin for his height. He would have to check Lupin's weight again before the full moon, since it was probable that he'd gain some weight, eating properly at Hogwarts.

Severus brushed the end of his quill against his forehead. Maybe Lupin was so relaxed because he finally had no worries in life anymore. Where do I get the money to eat from? When will I need to patch my robes again? When will I find work? And how long until they sack me? All those things were off his mind now. Maybe he didn't want to spoil his new-found happiness by getting into a fight with Severus…

When he had finished correcting the recipe, Severus got up from his desk and entered the living room. It wasn't even midnight yet, but he didn't feel like staying up, with Lupin ghosting about his thoughts, so he took his wand to put out the lights and with a glass of red wine and a yawn he retired to his bedroom. Outside, the crescent moon shone down upon the grounds, dipping the lake and the forest into its cold, silvery light. Intriguing, how firm a grip that light has on some, was the last thing on Severus's mind that night, very intriguing indeed.

But the orbs that shone down on him in his dreams were not silver and cold, they were golden and filled with warmth.


	4. Laughter

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Laughter**

It was Friday. The one day of the week Severus anticipated with impatience, maybe he even looked forward to it just a little bit. It was the last day before the weekend meaning at least some quiet hours which he could spend alone in his quarters without noisy Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs getting on his nerves. But today was different. He'd been in a bad mood all day. Since he had gotten out of bed, he had had a feeling that this Friday wouldn't turn out well and he had been right: he noticed that something was wrong when he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Instead of the scared looks he usually saw on the students' faces when he was present, they all stared at him in amusement and sniggered and whispered to each other. Obviously something had occurred that Severus had no knowledge of. Yet. His suspicions grew stronger still when he saw the werewolf choke on his toast at the sight of him, quickly averting his eyes and pretending to be deeply in conversation with Flitwick. He looked guilty, like a small child that had just smashed Mum's favourite vase. Severus's eyes narrowed. What had Lupin done?

As he sat down and buttered a piece of toast he glanced round himself at the other teachers and made out the same expressions on their faces that he had seen on the students'. But as soon as he focused his eyes on one of them they looked away, apparently afraid that he might ask what was the matter. Annoyed, Severus concentrated on his food and as soon as he'd finished he left for the staff room, having no class in the first lesson. He sat down in the low armchair and waited for his prey; someone to ask what was going on. He didn't have to wait long until McGonagall and Vector entered, talking about him. They hadn't noticed him yet, so he kept silent in his armchair, straining his ears to catch their conversation.

"I still can't believe it. It's hilarious," Vector said with a snicker.

"Don't let Severus hear that," McGonagall replied but giggled none the less. "Remus was so nervous when he came to breakfast today. Unusually early, too. I told him to avoid Severus for a while but he seemed eager to apologise."

Ah! Severus thought, so it was Lupin, after all.

"Come on, that Lupin has a good sense of humor! That was exactly what we needed!" Vector laughed and Severus froze. "I haven't had such a good laugh since Dumbledore dyed his own beard pink years ago."

They both chuckled and Severus felt himself grow angrier by the second.

"Well," McGonagall said finally. "I'm sure he didn't mean it as a joke. But then again, what was he expecting? Of course the whole school would laugh their heads off at that! But it was either really brave or suicidal, sticking Severus's Boggart replica into the dress of Longbottom's grandmother."

"HE DID WHAT?" Severus roared as he jumped up from his armchair, the two women recoiling in shock.

"Severus, have you been there all the time?" McGonagall cried, pressing one hand to her heart.

"HE DID WHAT?" he shouted again, clenching his fists until his knuckles grew white.

"Oh, Severus, don't be so upset it was only a Boggart," the Transfiguration Professor tried to calm him down.

"Only a Boggart? ONLY A - ? IT WAS ME NONETHELESS!" Severus was furious. So furious that he could have blown up Hogwarts castle with a single spell. That werewolf was only just so far away from getting himself killed already in the first week of his employment.

The door opened and the rest of the staff shuffled in to make the last preparations for their classes before the first lesson started. At Severus's sight, though, they stopped and looked at the two witches, then at Severus and back again.

"You've told him, haven't you?" Flitwick asked and earned himself a deathly look from Severus. Then he was there, standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face, his posture that of a dog, expecting punishment. Or a wolf rather.

"You!" Severus whispered in his most dangerous voice. Lupin stepped forward a little, holding up his hands as if to pacify the Potions master's fury.

"Listen, Severus, I'm sorry. If you just let me explain –" he said hoarsely in that calm voice of his and it made Severus angrier still.

"Explain? EXPLAIN? YOU MADE A FOOL OF ME! HOW DARE YOU RIDICULE ME LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL?" he shouted, stepping closer to Lupin and his lacking effect on the man frustrated him even more than it had the days before.

"I didn't mean to do so," Lupin said his voice still calm, his golden eyes placid, staring up at him, not moving an inch away from Severus. "Listen, I didn't plan on you being what Neville fears most, what should I have done? Tell him that 'I'm sorry but under those circumstances it is impossible for you to try out the spell'?"

"YES, THAT IS WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE! INSTEAD YOU LET HIM PUT ME INTO A DRESS!"

Severus just couldn't stop shouting at him. It reminded him so much of the situations Potter and Black had put him into at school. Everybody was laughing at him. Even McGonagall. He was sure even Albus. But Lupin…

"I didn't think, Severus. ("Well, that doesn't surprise me!" Severus commented.) I needed a quick solution and didn't consider the consequences," the werewolf said with genuine - or was it genuine? – regret in his voice. "I'm sorry it turned out like this. But what's done is done, I can't change it now. I can only tell you how much I regret it. It wasn't my aim to upset you or make fun of you, you can rest assured of that."

Severus had listened, but felt no better. The werewolf regretted his actions, but he had also regretted his passiveness at school. He had apologised then, too. Sometimes, when they had been out of earshot of his little friends. And it hadn't made Severus feel any better then, either. It didn't change anything. They were laughing. All of them. And even though Severus enjoyed having Lupin at his mercy, he couldn't blend out the laughter in his ears. It was there all the time. Haunting him. But Lupin…

"And still you made me the whole school's joke," Severus whispered, having calmed himself a little. He could see the other teachers standing round them, staring at them, some still with their silly smiles on their faces, as they thought about him in the dress, he was sure they did, and he just wanted to disappear into the ground. But he wouldn't let it show on his face. "Do you want to start again where they left off?" he then said quietly and shot Lupin a glance that made him understand whom he meant.

And there it was. The effect. Not as obvious as he had wished for it to be, but it was there. Lupin staggered. Not physically, but behind his amber eyes Severus saw the short flicker of an expression of uncertainty and shame. And it was fascinating. As if after years and years of exhausting research he had finally succeeded in brewing the most magnificent new potion. It made him feel victorious and gleeful and it let him forget the laughter. And then it was gone. Replaced by Lupin's usual unaffected indifference. And suddenly Severus knew what was different about him. It was his mask.

"You know that is not what I want. I wouldn't even think of doing such a thing," the werewolf said, his voice suddenly cold.

They stared at each other, and again Lupin didn't break the eye contact. Nobody dared say anything and Severus would almost have faltered, when he saw Lupin frown suddenly, his eyes distant as if looking right through Severus. And he did look through him, right inside of him, Severus was sure of that. He felt it. "I'm sorry," he said again, quietly, ruefully. "Please, forgive me. That's all I can say."

The Potions master had enough of the apologies. He couldn't bear the laughter. He had built himself a high and thick wall of respect and fear so no one would laugh at him anymore and now it had been damaged. Several bricks lay at his feet and he was too exhausted to pick them up and put them back where they belonged. But he would do it to shield himself from the laughter. And when he looked around himself he saw the laughter in all their eyes, felt the laughter of the students behind the thick stone walls and remembered the laughter of his own school mates from twenty years ago. Everyone laughed at him again. But Lupin… Lupin didn't laugh. Had never laughed. Would never laugh.

Suddenly all the fury he felt drained from his body like water from a bathtub. He couldn't help but believe Lupin's words and as much as he tried to hold on to the anger all that he was left with was that dull ache again. He wouldn't forgive him but he couldn't feel angry anymore now. It was a little comfort to him, though, that the werewolf seemed to suffer, too.

Severus sighed and waving his hand at Lupin as if he wanted to brush the dust off an old book he swept past him heading for the door, leaving the werewolf behind in the middle of the staffroom, head bent.

When Severus strode through the corridors he pondered on the expression he'd seen in the werewolf's eyes. It had been short but it had been there. Definitely. And he realised that he'd been wrong about one thing: it was not the self-confidence that made Lupin intriguing, it was what he was hiding with it. And the fact that he was hiding something at all. Of course Severus was fascinated by the way Lupin wouldn't let himself be fought down, but it was even more fascinating to find out that there was more to him than that calm face and that friendly smile. Severus wanted to know what else there was behind those golden eyes. And the challenge of finding a way to peel off that mask of his excited the Potions master. And then there was the fact that they had something in common. The masks they wore, different as they might be on the outside, to shield themselves from the world.

Severus stopped to lean against the cold stone wall and rubbed his neck, closing his eyes. He wanted to see those amber eyes flooded with emotion again, wanted to hear his usually warm voice heated and frozen and what he wanted most of all was to hear the sound of that husky chuckle once more; though he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet.


	5. Soil and Stone

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Soil and Stone**

During the next days, Severus noticed that it was far easier to hate the werewolf and feel angry at him when he wasn't present, so he avoided him as well as he could. Whenever anybody mentioned Lupin's name the Potions master would feel a flare of fury rise up in his guts and direct his most menacing look at the person who had uttered it. But as he didn't have Lupin close enough to bully him or humiliate him in front of the students or fellow teachers, he needed a substitute object for his revenge. And who would be better suited for that role than that dunderhead Longbottom? So Severus bullied him worse than ever instead of Lupin. It was partly the boy's fault, too, after all. Besides it made the blasted werewolf feel even guiltier. Severus saw him taking the boy aside one afternoon before lunch and overheard their conversation, unseen in the dark hallway that led to the dungeons.

"Listen, Neville, I heard that Professor Snape is giving you an especially hard time since the incident with the Boggart," Lupin's mild voice sounded over to Severus, dripping with Gryffindorish pity.

Longbottom nodded hesitantly.

"That's all my fault, Neville. I'm very sorry that Professor Snape's anger at me is falling back on you. If you like, I could talk to him," the werewolf offered and Severus felt himself look forward to that conversation, though he didn't exactly know the reason why. But Longbottom shook his head fiercely and said, "He will only bully me worse!"

And right he is, Severus smirked to himself his eyes fixed on Lupin's back. "I mean… he always bullied me, and I couldn't fear him more, than I already do, so… I'll be fine. Thanks Professor Lupin."

Lupin turned a little so that his profile was visible to Severus, his worried eyes so full of sympathy and guilt. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "I shouldn't have come up with anything like that in the first place. Now you have to suffer."

"No, Professor! I loved the lesson! It felt great, succeeding in something! I felt good thanks to you!"

Severus rolled his eyes and felt like he was about to throw up. This Gryffindor sentimentality. It was like in one of those Witch Weekly photograph comics. Not that he had ever read one of those!

As he saw Lupin's face brighten a little he retreated into the dungeons. He would have his lunch there; one more minute of seeing Lupin's expression of worried happiness spiced with a tinge of pride and he _would_ throw up.

Sometimes when he strode through the corridors he still saw a small grin or heard a stifled snicker – which he would both punish with a week's detention at least! – but mostly he seemed to only imagine people laughing at him when they were actually laughing about something else. Especially since everybody knew that it was dangerous to laugh in Severus's presence, nobody really dared to even remember the Boggart-story anymore.

"Well, then, my boy. No harm done, right?" Albus said one day, smiling broadly. Severus glared at him. He wondered if he'd still say that if it had been him in the dress with the vulture hat. But then again Albus would probably have found it very funny indeed even if it had been him. Severus sighed, that man didn't have a reputation to lose, either.

"They are still laughing at me behind my back!" he said and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

Albus shook his head, smiling slightly. "Oh, Severus… They all fear you just as much, or maybe even more than before. Don't be so angry with poor Remus. You know it wasn't his intention to make you angry." Severus's face darkened. Why did they all defend Lupin as if he'd done something wonderful?

"Maybe such a comic relief was due," Albus continued and Severus stared at him in disbelief. "You see Severus, now that the tension is gone a little, the students know that you're just human, too, and it will be easier for them to study while you're looming over them!"

"And that's a positive result?" Severus muttered.

"Yes, Severus. We are a school after all. And the staff is much more relaxed, too, seeing that Remus can't be scared by you. That's good for our working climate! They feel less… intimidated now they know you won't kill them even if they put you into a dress." The Headmaster laughed a little and Severus could have jumped at his throat for it.

"They shouldn't be so sure…" he growled and he meant it. He hadn't killed Lupin yet because he couldn't. Whenever he saw Lupin look at him with those regretful golden eyes, free of pity but full of guilt, his anger disappeared. Never before had anyone affected him like that.

Though he felt a certain urge to try and upset the other man, to make him discard his calm posture, Severus wasn't able to be downright mean to him once he stood in front of him. And even if he was, the werewolf's mask seemed to have strengthened and no snide remark could wipe the smile off his face or let the politeness crumble. All of that led to a great frustration that the Potions master just couldn't bear and it affirmed him in his decision to stay away from him and hate him from afar, which, as he had noticed, had a different, but never the less satisfying effect on the werewolf.

Whenever Severus was in sight, Lupin would try to talk to him, catch up with him in hallways or ask him for a conversation. Severus either ignored him or told him most eloquently ("Get lost!") that he was not in the slightest interested in talking to him, which made Lupin rather desperate after a while. But he knew as well as Lupin that there was no way that he could avoid him forever.

As the end of September drew nearer so did the first full moon of the school year and the Potions master couldn't continue to ignore the werewolf any longer. Actually that hadn't been possible before either since he followed him into his quarters and dreams in the form of vivid golden eyes and a soft husky chuckle. Severus was on the verge of going crazy. He didn't want the werewolf in his dreams, he didn't even want him in the same country as himself, not even on the same planet!

But his body obviously did and his subconscious as well. Severus spent most of his waking moments cursing the man in every thinkable and unthinkable way but it didn't seem to work; the gods obviously loved Remus bloody Lupin. So the last solution was the Dreamless Sleep Draught. He had actually brewed a vast amount of it to get rid of the nightmares that had haunted him during and after the war but hadn't needed them for a while now and since the definition of a bad dream could be extended to dreams which were not good but bad for him, such as the dreams he had of Remus Lupin, he could definitely use the Draught now, too. He still had several phials left so he took one from his stores and put it onto his nightstand to take it before going to sleep that evening.

Severus had taken a walk around the lake and was now sitting on the stone steps before the gates to the Entrance Hall, staring up at the almost full moon. It was late in the evening and he had wished for Black to cross his way, but no madman was to be seen anywhere. Fate didn't grant him even that little satisfaction.

It had rained earlier in the day and the grass and the trees and the stone of the castle were still damp. The air was full of that scent. The scent that would rise from the moist soil and stone, filling the nose like the fumes of a potion. It was as if he could see the scent, hanging in the air like fog, intensified by the heat, smelling of all the things one usually didn't notice. Soil and stone spread their specific odours that could be clearly distinguished from the smell of the wet grass, and from far away a slight breeze brought the forest's very own fragrance to Severus's nose. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, a calm, relaxed expression on his face and thought:

"I love this scent."

Severus opened his eyes in surprise and whirled round to face the source of the mild voice. Lupin was standing behind him to his left and smiled, his gaze wandering over the grounds. The Slytherin stared at him. He hadn't heard Lupin come and suddenly he felt rather defenceless without his wand in direct reach. He had let himself grow careless over the scent of the rain. What if Black had –

"Don't you, too, Severus?" the werewolf interrupted his thoughts and Severus noticed he was suddenly looking down at him meeting his stare with his amber eyes which were shining in the moonlight. Severus didn't answer. He felt a jolt go through his body and looked away, for the first time giving in to Lupin, showing a weakness. The werewolf chuckled softly and Severus tried to hide the shiver running through his body despite the remarkable heat.

Lupin sat down beside Severus, leaving a distance of about twenty inches between them. Severus shot a sidelong glance at him and saw the werewolf looking up at the moon as if transfixed by its otherworldly light. It made his skin glow silvery and Severus wondered if he looked like him now, with a glow round him like a ghost.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lupin whispered hoarsely, his eyes never leaving the moon.

Severus followed his gaze and his eyes came to rest on the bright orb. He nodded then, slowly, and when Lupin sighed he turned to look at him again. The werewolf's features were full of emotion. His brows knitted his mouth half frown half smile, his eyes shining with two opposing feelings. Suddenly Severus was very aware of the lines around his eyes and the grey in his honey hair. He looked much older now, with the tired and grief-stricken expression on his face. As if he'd already lived his life three times before. And at the same time there was a strange look of awe in his eyes as if he were indecisive whether he should admire the moon or curse it, be happy he was alive, no matter in which condition, or hate it. It was… intriguing.

"Yes, it is," Lupin answered his own question. "And at the same time it is my constant tormentor. It causes me pain and fear. And I…" Then he faltered as if unable to say any more. Suddenly the smile had won over the frown and Lupin turned to Severus his eyes still sad and tired. "I am so grateful, that you enable me to forget some of the fear, Severus. It is the most wonderful gift anyone has ever made me… even if it wasn't your intention to do so."

Severus felt a strange feeling well up inside him, but he couldn't quite define what it was. He still didn't say anything but this time he didn't avert his eyes either. He was fascinated by Lupin's expression, his red lips curled upwards in a slight smile while his brows were definitely showing sadness and sorrow, and his eyes… Severus hadn't thought it possible that happiness and worried fear could really be displayed in one pair of eyes.

When he noticed that he was the cause of the worry that strange feeling grew even stronger. Lupin obviously expected an answer from him but he didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at such conversations.

"Well… I… not at all…" he stammered then and could've hit himself. Very good answer indeed, Snape. But Lupin's smile only broadened.

"What does it look like?" he asked and Severus raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The full moon," the werewolf clarified. "How does it look?"

Severus was taken aback by the question. Sure, he knew that the other man had been bitten as a child but somehow it was hard to believe that something as normal as the full moon could be such a mystery to the man. "It is round and bright and silver, Lupin. What kind of a question is that," he said silkily having recovered his spite.

The werewolf chuckled. "Sure. What answer was I expecting, really?" He wrapped his arms round himself as if he were cold and looked at the lake where the Giant Squid was moon bathing. Severus didn't know why he was still there with him, why he hadn't got up and left when the werewolf had arrived but something was holding him there, was keeping him from leaving.

"You really shouldn't worry about the others so much," the werewolf said quietly and ran a hand through his brown-grey hair.

It took Severus a second until he understood. "Of course you must think so," he replied sharply. "It's not you, they're laughing at."

"They're not laughing at you, Severus…"

"No sure, they're laughing _with_ me, aren't they? Do you see me laughing, Lupin?" Severus snapped, suddenly agitated that he wasn't taken seriously by him either.

Lupin looked at his feet and sighed again. "No, never…" he replied with a small smile but this time it didn't look genuine. "I meant, they're laughing about an image of you, they're not laughing at something you did or said or even experienced in real life."

"It's still laughing…" Severus muttered, feeling defiant again. He wanted to tell someone how much it upset him and why. And somehow Lupin seemed the perfect person for that. At that very moment Severus felt that it was right to continue the conversation, although the urge to bang Lupin's head against a wall this time was very present. "Albus thinks it's good, because it relieves the tension. He called me a comic relief!"

He waited for Lupin's laugh, but it never came. The werewolf just sat there staring intently at Severus, listening closely, so he continued. "It is like when I was a student, when your _friends_… They all think I deserved it. The students, the teachers, even McGonagall! Because they hate me," he pressed the last sentence through his gritted teeth and was surprised at how painful it was to hear it, even from himself. He hated them all so why should it concern him if they reciprocated the feeling?

"They don't," Lupin said firmly and his hoarse voice sent tingles through Severus's body. "Maybe some do because you gave them enough reason, especially students, since children are fast at hating something or someone… but the staff don't hate you. Minerva and Albus don't hate you. Though, sometimes you might be quite unpleasant company."

Severus met his golden eyes and wondered if he really believed that or if it was just one of those Gryffindor traits to always think the best of everything and everyone. But somehow it made him feel better that the other hadn't just said that if everyone hated him, he only got what he deserved and provoked. And then there was a question on his mind that he just couldn't hold back.

"And you? Do you hate me?"

Lupin looked startled and cocked his head to one side. "No," he said simply but he didn't smile this time. Severus could hardly believe that. He had done his best to show his hatred to the werewolf and yet the other still didn't hate him back? And why on earth was that strange feeling growing stronger and stronger inside of him?

He was silent for a few minutes and against all odds it was a pleasant silence between them. They both inhaled the scent of the rain, enjoying the quiet of the summer night and Severus felt at peace somehow, for the first time in ages. His eyes sought Lupin's face again and taking in his delicate features, illuminated by the pale moonlight, he felt the anger about the dress-incident fall away from him onto the moist stone steps.

Then Lupin turned his head and their eyes met again. Suddenly Severus felt weak in the knees and had he stood he was sure he would have fallen. The golden orbs bored right into him and it felt as if he were stripped naked and forced to reveal the bottom of his soul without being able to resist, completely defenceless. Then a peaceful smile spread over Lupin's face and the worry vanished, replaced by subdued joy, returning the boyish youth to his face.

"I'm glad that you have been able to let go, Severus."

The Slytherin stared. Since when was he so obvious? Why could the werewolf see through him like that? Severus didn't like it! "How –"

"You look at peace," the other man said calmly. "As if you'd been freed of some load."

Severus kept staring. He couldn't deny it. He felt lighter somehow. He looked up into the sky; the polar star shone brightly above them. Then he saw Sirius and he felt cold suddenly in the warm night. He rose to his feet, straightening his robes, closely watched by the werewolf beside him. He noticed that his cold expression had slipped off his face and put it back in place to scowl down at the other. The scent of soil and stone was still in his nose and he breathed in, closing his eyes for a short moment, enjoying the mixture. Though they were mingled he could still distinguish them like white and black, like day and night.

"You will start taking the potion tomorrow and you will need to drink one goblet a day, for a week," he said as coldly as he could manage. "I will be expecting you in my office in the afternoon to fetch it."

"Yes, Severus, I'll be there," the werewolf said and as Severus turned to leave he added, "Good night."

"Don't forget it!" Severus snapped and disappeared into the Entrance Hall leaving Lupin and the anger behind on the steps. He still had that strange feeling and he still sensed the golden eyes looking right through him, making his legs soft. He hated it. He hated the man for it. Because rather than Severus having an effect on Lupin, Lupin had an effect on him and he just couldn't accept that.

And he couldn't bear the way Lupin could interest Severus in what he had to say, the way the werewolf seemed to understand him, or the way he made him talk and then listened to his woes, or the way he had said that he didn't hate him. And the feeling inside of himself, so confusing, so painful and so pleasant. Severus didn't want it. Any of it. After all that had happened between them in the past. What was that man doing to him? And yet… when he thought of how the man had encouraged him, how he had not laughed, Severus felt a tiny little spark of warmth in the pit of his stomach, quickly extinguished by his own coldness.

When he arrived in his quarters he changed into his nightwear and got into bed quickly, exhausted by the past weeks and keen on a recreative night's sleep. He reached for the phial of Dreamless Sleep Draught but decided on reading through his list of ingredients and instructions for the Wolfsbane Potion again before going to sleep, though he already knew it by heart. Everything needed to be perfect after all. When he finally put out the light with his wand, which he laid under his pillow, the phial still lay on the nightstand, untouched.


	6. Human

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Human**

On the next day Lupin shuffled in at exactly the right time. The knock on the door was just loud enough for Severus to be able to hear it over the simmering of the cauldron full of Wolfsbane potion.

"Enter," he said and the werewolf opened the door, slipping inside. "Just in time."

Lupin smiled and came closer but stopped halfway through the room, wrinkling his nose. "That smell is…" he said finishing the sentence by making a disgusted face. Severus rolled his eyes. Sensitive as ever, he thought and glared at Lupin. "Well, as long as it works…" the other added quickly and shrugged.

"It does," Severus snarled as he poured some of the potion into a goblet, holding it out to Lupin who took it from him with shaking fingers. He looked down into the bubbling and steaming green substance and raised his eyebrows. Then with a last insecure look at the Potions master he raised the goblet to his lips and drank the potion in one draught. Severus watched him with wary eyes, searching for a sign of side effects, but couldn't make any out. When Lupin lowered the goblet again, wiping his mouth, he screwed up his eyes and shuddered. "_That_ really has a mean taste!" he said, handing the goblet back to Severus who rolled his eyes again.

"Good medicine always tastes bitter," he replied coldly as he set the goblet down beside the smoking cauldron. Lupin flashed him a crooked smile at that. "True, true. And you must know, right, Severus?"

"Sure," the Slytherin said and pointed at the door. Lupin chuckled and turned to leave. "If there should be any… complications, inform me of it and I will see what I can do about them," Severus added before Lupin had closed the door behind him and got a hum of affirmation as an answer.

On all following afternoons Lupin visited Severus's office, never late and always sure to try and start a conversation. All attempts were successfully blocked by Severus's silencing glares, like that he managed to avoid being in the other's presence for longer than a few minutes before the goblet was drained and the werewolf could be thrown out, the expression of disgust still on his face. He couldn't risk another situation like the one in front of the castle, when Lupin had got far too close to him, not only physically.

On the day before the full moon Severus saw the nervousness in every movement and heard it in every word of the other man. He knocked over the chair that stood in front of the desk in Severus's office and would almost have dropped the goblet with potion when he took it from the Potions master. His voice shook considerably when he laughed about his own clumsiness and apologised, dropping the chair three times before he managed to pick it up and put it on its legs again. Severus considered him silently and when he handed the goblet back to him the Potions master's eyes wandered over his face, the weak smile, the creased brow and the amber eyes, misty instead of gleaming. Severus caught himself staring into those eyes longingly, wishing back the golden glitter that usually filled them. He twirled the goblet round between his fingers and after a few second's silence he took a deep breath, turning his back on the werewolf, clearing his throat.

"Tomorrow I will bring you the potion to your office," he said and when Lupin made a startled noise he added, "I don't want my desk or more expensive and rare things knocked over the next time you come here." The werewolf blushed at that, grinning foolishly. "Apart from that I don't want to risk you not being in your rooms in time for nightfall…" And with that he threw the Gryffindor out with a wave of his hand.

On the next day after having finished his work Severus filled the goblet with Wolfsbane again and set off for Lupin's office. It was late in the afternoon and he hurried, taking two steps at once when climbing a staircase. He didn't want to be late lest the sun would set before he had left Lupin's rooms again. When he arrived at the door to the other's office, he knocked three times and when he heard a hoarse "Come in" from inside he opened the door and stepped in. "Ah, Severus," Lupin smiled, looking up from some papers he had been brooding over. "Thank you for bringing the potion."

He got up from his chair and walked round the table to take the potion from Severus who was standing motionless in front of the door. "Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked and sipped at the potion instead of drinking it in one gulp as he usually did. Severus raised an eyebrow, lowering his head and giving Lupin a disbelieving look. "Oh, come on, Severus, don't look at me like that. See it as a little thank you. Or is my presence that unbearable?"

The Potions master smirked and stepped a little closer. "Yes," he said in a silky voice and enjoyed the flash of pain in the other's eyes that were so dull lately. Then he pointed at the teakettle that was standing on one of Lupin's shelves. "Yes, why not?" Lupin's face lit up at once and he tapped the teakettle with his wand making it steam. Then he took out two teabags from a dusty tin and set two cups on the table.

"Teabags?" Severus said sneering, taking the cup from Lupin's hands while he pulled back the only chair in front of his desk and sat down. Lupin shrugged. "Well, fresh tea is expensive, you learn to forgo certain things in favour of others when you only have limited money."

Severus sipped the tea. It couldn't compare to the tea leaves he usually used but it wasn't too bad. "For example?" he asked looking at the werewolf over the rim of his teacup.

The other smiled slightly, sadly. "Food," he said simply and suddenly Severus felt cold. He stared into his tea and tried to ignore his thoughts of the other's weight. He shouldn't have asked. He had known the answer. But what did it matter anyway? "But forgoing tea altogether is –"

"Is impossible," Lupin finished his sentence and laughed a little. "Apart from the fact that as a true Englishman I could never do without my 5 o'clock tea, it makes my throat less sore." He chuckled his husky chuckle and Severus felt his spine tingle, still staring into his tea. "Well, it doesn't really make that much of a difference…" Lupin finished running a hand through his hair and taking a gulp of the potion.

"Doesn't matter," Severus mumbled and finished his tea. When he looked up to place the cup back onto the table he saw Lupin's misty eyes fixing him. "What did you say?" he asked and Severus shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied firmly. "No sugar!" he then added, when he saw the werewolf's hand wander to a box full of cubes of sugar. "It makes the potion useless." He was amused by the expression of utter disappointment and shock on Lupin's face when he took yet another tiny sip from the goblet, and then another bigger gulp, draining it, pulling a face. Severus watched him shudder and roll his amber eyes to the ceiling. Lupin looked pale and a little worn out and when he drank some tea to rinse his mouth of the taste, Severus saw his hand tremble slightly around the cup and heard the clatter when the werewolf set it down on its saucer again. "Disgusting…" Severus heard him mutter under his breath and getting up he felt how a question was forcing its way out through his lips. "Do you feel it already? The full moon?"

The werewolf blinked and rested his chin on his hands. "Yes. I feel it pulling on my mind and eating at my body. But with the potion it's not so bad." He smiled again and Severus saw the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "I'm nervous…" he confessed, averting his eyes and focusing them on Severus's abandoned teacup.

The Potions master hesitated, his eyes wandering to the door and then back to Lupin. He didn't need to tell the other that everything would go well and actually he didn't even know it himse–

"Everything will go well," his mouth formed the words before his brain had decided to say them. The other looked up, a surprised expression on his face. "Or do you doubt my skill?" Severus added with a daring look on his face.

"Of course not," Lupin grinned and got up as well, taking the goblet and walking past Severus to open the door for him. "It is not that I think it won't work, it's just that I don't know what to expect. How will it feel and will it be as much better as I hope it will? I mean, will I be human or animal? And…" he hesitated and seemed to gather what was left of his nerves to continue, "will I feel the ongoing pain of the transformation after I have turned into the wolf? Because I can always feel it when I've turned back. I'm a little scared of having to bear it twice…"

Severus stared at him with his cold black eyes and considered his words for a moment. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to transform like Lupin would that night and he was glad he couldn't. But when his eyes came to rest on the other's hand, on the doorknob, and he saw one of the many scars that must be all over Lupin's body, he opened his mouth and met his eyes again. "I am sure that it will be worth it. I wouldn't worry so much if I were you, which I am not, luckily," he said coolly and was a little satisfied when the Gryffindor's face brightened a bit.

"Thank you, Severus," he said and Severus thought that he would never grow tired of hearing it. He took the goblet from Lupin's hands and stepped out of the room, turning his head slightly so that the other could hear him. "I will check up on you tomorrow morning," he said and didn't wait for an answer before he made his way back to the dungeons. He heard the door close and something clattered, followed by Lupin's voice probably cursing. Apparently he had knocked his own chair over this time. Severus smirked a little, and when he arrived in his laboratory he put the empty cauldron back into the cupboard after a quick cleaning spell. On a desk over a fire another potion was already bubbling, an Invigorating Draught just in case it was needed in the morning.

That night Severus couldn't sleep. He told himself that it was because he feared Lupin would break out of his quarters and come eat him, which of course was complete nonsense. The silvery light of the moon shone onto his face and he raised his hand before his eyes, examining the glow around it, puzzled by the power of the light, immune to the influence it had on the other man. In reality he thought of Lupin and wondered if the werewolf could finally see the full moon with the golden eyes of the human, through the windows of his bedroom.


	7. Once in a Blue Moon

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Warnings: H&C. Some Fluff ahead.

Author Notes: In this I wanted to show some more of Severus's feelings and thoughts and their causes, and a lot of what is hidden under Remus's mask. It creates a base for the further development of their relationship. The fact that the full moon in this chapter which took place in September 1993 was a Blue Moon, meaning two full moons in one month, was a nice coincidence, therefore I used the saying "Once in a Blue Moon" describing something that happens only very rarely.

**Once in a Blue Moon**

It was 6 o'clock in the morning when the first sunbeams fought their way through the half closed curtains before Severus's bedroom windows, making him groan and turn over, pulling the covers over his face. After all, he had been able to sleep for a few hours but instead of making him feel refreshed, the short sleep had only made the fatigue worse. Severus reached under his pillow, fumbling for his wand and casting a quick spell to close the curtains, shutting the bright light of the day out.

Then he opened his eyes to the semi-darkness in the room and sat up, glancing round and stretching his limbs with a yawn. He checked the time on his alarm clock and wondered whether the werewolf was already awake. Slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom he decided that it would be better to let the other sleep for another few hours. After having brushed his teeth and put on his black robe Severus entered his laboratory and sniffed the Invigorating Draught, putting out the fire under the cauldron. He filled the potion into five phials, storing four of them away on a shelf and sticking one in his pocket.

Severus spent the rest of the time before his first lesson of the day with the Slytherin-Ravenclaw OWL course, sitting in his living room, staring into the empty fireplace, tapping his fingers onto the lean of his armchair. When he heard his stomach grumbling suddenly, he got up and made his way into the Great Hall to have a short breakfast. Albus's eyes twinkled into his direction when he sat down and poured himself some coffee, but Severus tried to ignore him, staring down onto his plate and chewing on a piece of bread. Unfortunately most of the teachers had already finished their breakfast and left, which made it easier for the older wizard to just move closer to him a few chairs and talk to him quietly, hands folded on the table.

"So, Severus? How did it go?"

The Potions master shrugged. "I haven't been up to see him yet, but since there were no violent deaths of students or teachers last night, unfortunately in some cases, I suppose that everything went alright," he said ignoring the click of Albus's tongue. He stabbed his fried egg with his fork and watched the yolk run over the plate.

"Why haven't you been up, yet?"

Severus swallowed. "I thought… he would not be awake yet. I thought it would be better to let him sleep for a while longer." The twinkle in Albus's eyes was almost audible now. He laid a hand on Severus's shoulder and got up.

"That was thoughtful of you Severus. I'm sure Remus will appreciate it. And by the way: the password to his quarters is 'Agnus'," he said quietly and left. Severus scowled at his retreating back and stabbed his egg again, almost breaking the plate. In the pocket of his robe his hand closed around the phial of potion, feeling warm against his cold skin.

At a quarter past eleven, after he had dismissed his class, Severus found himself standing in front of Lupin's office and taking a deep breath he knocked three times. No answer was to be heard from within so he turned the knob and pushed open the door to find an empty room. Suddenly Severus felt as if he had something else to do and couldn't remember why he was in the werewolf's office at all, so he turned to leave, but before he had stepped over the threshold he stopped, reaching inside his robes and touching the phial beside his wand. He rolled his eyes. A Distracting Charm obviously, to keep students away before, after and, in some cases of curfew breaking, during the full moon.

Severus raised his wand and muttered a spell to dismantle the Distracting Charm, stepping back into the office and closing the door behind himself. He then turned to a wall, which was completely void of pictures, shelves, or cupboards and said, "Agnus." The grey stone changed into brown wood and a door appeared before the Potions master, swinging open to let him in. He hesitated for a few moments, sticking his head into the sitting room that had been revealed to him, and called out Lupin's name. As no answer came he entered, pulling the door shut and walking over to the windows, drawing back the curtains to let in the sun. Apparently Lupin had not been up yet.

Severus cast a searching look through the room and noticed that it was the same as his own, except for the furniture and the decoration. In the short time that Lupin had been a teacher he had filled the shelves of his sitting room with many books, books which were less shabby and threadbare than his own clothes, looking as if the werewolf took very good care of them. Over the fireplace he had pinned a Gryffindor flag and the old armchair in front of it seemed to be his own, other than the rest of the furniture which were those provided by the castle. But apart from that Severus couldn't make out any personal accessories such as the photos of friends and family that he had expected would fill the walls.

Severus, wand still in hand, walked over to the door that led to the bedroom. It was ajar and he could see the dim light that illuminated the hovering dust in the room. When he pushed it open wide enough to be able to slip through it, he saw the brown-grey hair of the werewolf stick out from under the covers. With a flick of his wand the curtains and windows flew open and he heard the werewolf groan like Severus himself had done earlier that morning. He stepped closer to the bed, always keeping a safety distance, to see if Lupin had woken yet, but it seemed as if he had no intention of doing so, turning away from the light.

"Lupin, it is almost noon," Severus said loudly. "Wake up!" But the other merely pulled the covers closer around his body, burying his face in the mattress. Severus sighed and after a moment's hesitation he reached out and shook Lupin's shoulder which proved to be far more effective. The Gryffindor rolled over onto his back and running his hands through his hair he forced his eyes open, squinting up at the Potions master with a vague smile.

"G'morn', Sev'rus," he croaked and Severus would have gasped had he not had such a control over himself. "You look terrible," he said and he didn't exaggerate. Lupin had the darkest of rings under his eyes and his skin was even paler than it usually was, he looked as if he hadn't slept in a month. But since he chuckled at Severus's statement he seemed to be fine, as far as the circumstances permitted it. The werewolf's laugh was disrupted by a coughing fit and he sat up, holding his chest, pain clearly written in his face.

"How are you feeling? Any injuries?" Severus asked and crossed his arms over his chest. Lupin shook his head and cleared his throat. "The potion worked wonderfully. I feel better than I usually do, thank you," he said, his voice raspy. "Just tired and… my bones hurt from the transformation, they have to go through quite a lot of tearing and bending, after all, but that'll cease sooner or later. After a Blue Moon it's always a little worse than usual. Good that they're so rare." He fell back onto his pillow and sighed, his breath rattling and shallow. "It was a singular feeling to be in the body of the wolf with my own mind. I suppose that is how an Animagus must feel." Then he glanced nervously at the Potions master as if he'd said too much. "I saw the full moon. It was… strange. As if I had finally been able to trick it. Thanks to you."

Severus raised an eyebrow, though he felt a surge of… pride? – run through him. "Not at all," he said coolly and put his wand into his pocket, pulling out the potion with his left hand, removing the stopper. He bowed a little and held the phial out to the werewolf, who reached for it, brushing his fingers against Severus's, making him shiver. But he didn't take it. Severus looked at him, confused by the way his arm hovered in the air as if he were petrified, brows knitted, his amber eyes staring at the Potions master's wrist. And then Severus noticed it. His sleeve had shifted when he had stretched out his arm, and had revealed the lower quarter of something that he never let anyone see. He pushed the phial into the other's hand spilling a few drops of the potion when he whipped away his arm, yanking down his sleeve with his right hand.

His eyes shot to Lupin's face. The werewolf looked taken aback and licked the drops of potion which Severus had spilt from his hand. His eyes lit up immediately and he drank the rest from the phial looking up at the Slytherin with a curious gleam in his large ambers. Severus glowered down at him and folded his arms over his chest again, pressing his wrist to his ribcage. Lupin averted his eyes, setting the phial down on the nightstand. "Thanks," he smiled uneasily not quite managing to act as if he hadn't seen anything.

Severus just stood there, unable to move. The only sounds to be heard were the singing of the birds and the buzzing of voices from the grounds. The silence that stretched out between them was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. And it was Lupin who broke it.

"Are you ashamed of it? The Dark Mark?" he said quietly and looked up at Severus, his golden eyes searching his black ones. Severus turned his head so he could look out of the window, focusing his eyes on a cloud that was drifting past. He barely moved his lips when he answered.

"It is… expected of me, to be ashamed…"

He felt Lupin's eyes on him and didn't dare look at him, didn't want to see the disgust he was sure he would find in the werewolf's face. "But are you, really?" he heard him say and suddenly he felt angry.

"Well, I suppose so," he snapped. "It's none of your business anyway!" He whirled round and wanted to pick up the phial and throw it at him, but at the sight of Lupin's eyes he froze. He wasn't disgusted or hateful, he just stared at him with placid eyes and folded hands.

"You see, Severus… we all have a past of our own, some darker than others," he said with a small smile. "I think what matters is who you are now. Only that is worth being proud or ashamed of."

Severus stared at him. Usually people didn't react like that when they saw the sign of the Dark Lord on his arm. "I chose to become a Death Eater," he said, pressing his right hand to his left forearm on the place where the Dark Mark was. "I wanted to be one of his followers!"

Lupin's brow creased. "Yes, you did," he replied. "And then, you decided for whichever reason, that you'd been wrong and changed sides, under a great risk to your life. That is far more glorious than being on the good side from the beginning."

Severus looked at his hand clutching his arm. He wasn't sure what Lupin imagined his reasons to have been. They had not been entirely egoistic but he didn't share the werewolf's opinion. It hadn't been glorious. It had been pathetic and he had been disgusted by himself. He was still disgusted. Severus looked into Lupin's golden eyes and felt empty. The werewolf was the first person who had ever failed to blame him, he seemed to simply ignore the fact that he had… had done terrible things, unforgivable things for the Dark Lord during the war. The anger ebbed away and was replaced by something else: it was a painfully good feeling to hear those words from him.

"Why do you say something like that? You don't know why I changed the side. Why I became Dumbledore's spy. Until a minute ago you knew nothing of my past! You… you are a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! You should be appalled instead of indifferent," he said. He needed to know why Lupin thought so differently from all the others. Another intriguing thing about him.

He heard Lupin shift under the covers. "I say it," the werewolf whispered, "because I think that it is true. You deserve the second chance because you have decided to use it well. And I… I think that it was necessary you heard it."

Severus stared at him. He knew what he meant, he wanted to erase the shame and the self-loathing inside of Severus, which had been implanted there by all the people who had looked upon him with disgust; and indeed he felt his heart grow a little lighter. He hadn't even noticed that it was heavy at all. Lupin's head was bent and on his face there was a look of deep pain, the mask discarded, finally. Severus frowned and the strange feeling was back, eating at his cold posture. The werewolf's hands were clutching at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"I understand you, Severus, better than you could possibly imagine," the Gryffindor muttered and Severus needed a few seconds for the words to sink in before the anger was back.

"You don't know what you're talking about! How do you think can you compare our situations?" he shouted and made Lupin raise his eyebrows. "You didn't run over to the werewolf that bit you, saying 'Oh I'd like to be a werewolf, bite me!' You were a child and it was an accident, it wasn't your fault. I was an adult and knew what I was doing when I let the Dark Lord mark me!"

Lupin looked surprised at his outbreak. "So you think it is unfounded to mistrust me?" he asked calmly but Severus thought he had heard a tiny trace of hope in the question.

"I think it is unfounded to mistrust a man who always fought for the good side and was never involved in any Dark business, simply because he happens to be a werewolf," he snarled and turned away. In the corner of his eye he saw that Lupin looked as though he had a fight raging inside him; obviously that answer had had an impact on him. Severus suspected that he felt the same painful pleasure that he had felt a few minutes before. Apparently the werewolf wanted to ask Severus more on that topic, but he seemed to restrain himself under great effort.

"And I… I think it is unfounded to mistrust a man who risked his life as a spy for Dumbledore and gained his trust, simply because he made a mistake in his past," he said instead, earning himself a raised eyebrow and a glare. "Don't misunderstand me. I do not think choosing to be a Death Eater is peanuts, but I think choosing to betray Voldemort is far more difficult. And therefore our situations are quite similar."

"How so?" Severus growled and folded his arms over his chest again glowering down at the werewolf.

"They mistrust us. All of them do. And it is not important why, what matters is that they do not grant us a chance to prove ourselves, even though we deserve it, and no matter how hard we try, we will never be accepted. They turn their backs on us in disgust and it doesn't matter if they do it because they connect a Dark Creature with Dark Magic and therefore with everything evil, or because they disrespect you because you chose the wrong side when you were young and furious. What matters is, that it hurts. Maybe we don't pay attention to the pain anymore, maybe we have grown used to it, but it is there, deep down, eating at us," his voice broke and he swallowed, gathering all the strength he seemed to have left, to continue. Severus's eyes never left him and he listened carefully, feeling that _this_ was important. That it _meant_ something. And inside him, deep down, the pain confirmed it.

"And inside, we loathe ourselves, much more than we loathe those who do this to us. We are ashamed and disgusted by the marks on our bodies. Just like you would never show the Dark Mark to anyone, I would never show them the scars…"

Severus looked at his arm and it was as if he could see through the fabric of his black robe, he could see it vividly before his eyes, burnt into the white skin of his forearm, skull and snake, red and ugly.

"But we shouldn't be ashamed. Because we have overcome the prejudice. Even though it would have been less difficult to give in to the charms of the easier way. Although no one acknowledges it. Apart from Dumbledore maybe," Lupin paused and his golden eyes were swimming, making Severus lower his own. "It is not the differences of our situations that are important, that make me understand, Severus, it is the things that are alike."

Severus closed his eyes and pictured it before his mind, the Dark Mark. It was a stigma that shut him out of society, making it impossible for him to be respected and accepted as who he was, all of him. And no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it, it would never vanish, a constant magical reminder of his pitch-black past. He didn't belong and he didn't feel at home anywhere. It was, he had to admit to himself, something he had in common with the werewolf. No matter where they were, even in the biggest of crowds, they were lonely. And it would forever be that way. And it was then that he realised that they were indeed equal.

And then he nodded.

His heart felt as if it had been ripped to pieces and glued together again. Suddenly there was something there, a connection between them. Severus felt as if for the first time in his life someone had understood how he felt and found words for him to utter it. That it had to be the werewolf was pure irony. Severus's capability to hate the man shrank rapidly, like a balloon after being pricked with a needle and it made him so angry, he wanted to break, no, destroy something.

He snatched the phial from the nightstand, deciding to leave as fast as possible, before he _did_ destroy something; he wouldn't let the werewolf into his head, not to speak of his soul! He couldn't. So he turned on his heel and was about to storm out when Lupin caught his arm and his mild voice said, "Stay. Just a little longer, please." Severus looked over to the door and back to the werewolf, unmoving.

He met the werewolf's golden eyes with his onyx ones and again he felt his anger ebb away, although he tried to seize it and cling to it, the soothing effect of the other's placid ambers was far too strong. He wasn't ready to give in yet but he couldn't deny that he wanted to. The fuzzy feeling returned to his stomach accompanied by a slight shiver when the werewolf took his hand away, brushing his fingers against Severus's, deliberately. And although Lupin still was the best friend of his childhood tormentors, he wasn't one of them and the Potions master decided that that was a good enough reason to stop blaming him, hating him and being angry with him just for now and to obey his pleading eyes. They begged 'Stay'. And he did. Sitting down on the far end of Lupin's bed.

They sat in silence, comfortably this time. Severus watching Lupin quietly, his cold eyes tracing the other's every outline, every tiny little bit of skin that was revealed by the old Muggle tee-shirt he was wearing to bed, fuzzy feeling strengthening. Lupin leaning back against the headboard of his bed, entirely relaxed, a soft, peaceful smile on his red lips, eyes closed in exhaustion. No words were needed. It was one of those rare moments, in which it was enough to just _be_. The Potions master wondered what the werewolf was feeling at that very moment. The same as him? Did he… enjoy his presence? How could he? How could anyone? But then again, Lupin wasn't just anyone, right?

When Severus left to be in time for his next lesson he thought he heard Lupin mutter to himself,

"Once in a Blue Moon, there might be a second chance for us. And we might seize it."


	8. Gryffindor Golden

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Gryffindor Golden**

Severus didn't see Lupin again until lunch on the next day. He looked worn still, but much better than the day before. Severus wanted to avoid eye contact but at the same time he just couldn't help glancing down the table now and then, and when Lupin noticed his eyes on him he looked up and smiled, inclining his head in a gesture of greeting. Severus stared at him for a few moments, unable to take his eyes off the werewolf, before he managed to pull them away, scowling at his chicken.

He felt strange. Since he had left Lupin's office on the day before, he had had a feeling of confusion and uncertainty following him everywhere. Were he a Gryffindor, he wouldn't be able to teach his classes or intimidate his environment the way he did. Were he a Gryffindor, he would probably have given in to despair and would be cowering in some dark corner, crying. But he wasn't a Gryffindor! He was a Slytherin! And as a true Slytherin he could hide his mental and emotional distress perfectly. And as a true Slytherin, of course, he couldn't deal with it.

On the one hand he held a grudge against the werewolf for never helping him at school, for being befriended to Black and Potter and for almost having eaten him on purpose in their fifth year; on the other hand… Severus had no words for everything on the other hand. It was so confusing, so intense and so profound, that it almost scared him. Though he'd never admit to that. Lupin seemed to be able to sneak past his guard and make it feel… pleasant… or at least less painful. The time they had spent with each other in silence had been very telling and very confusing at the same time. Severus wasn't sure he wanted something like that to happen. But what was it? He knew that his body was inclined to the other man but that wasn't all anymore. Severus didn't dare give it a name to classify it. It was too great for a classification. There was a connection. But did Lupin feel about it the same way Severus did?

He glanced down the table again and started when he saw that Lupin had been waiting for it, his golden eyes shining brightly in the sunlight that fell into the Great Hall from the enchanted ceiling, his smile still in place. It sent a shiver down Severus's spine and he turned away quickly. The shivers were different too. Deeper somehow. He felt warm suddenly and cursed the werewolf silently. He couldn't let him find a way past his walls. The thought disquieted him. As did the fact that a tiny little voice inside him _did_ want to let Lupin in. He didn't have names for his feelings for the other man; he only knew that it wasn't hatred anymore. Those feelings were painful and pleasant at the same time, and he didn't know if he enjoyed or despised them. He heard Lupin's soft, husky chuckle from the other side of the table and felt thrilled by the sensation it incited inside of him. A tingling that went through his whole body. He felt himself flush and tried to fight it down but couldn't. Once again his body betrayed him and it was all he could do not to run from the Hall.

He finished his lunch quickly and left as fast as possible without making the impression of fleeing from the room. When he was out of sight he started running, straight into the cold dungeons, hoping that the chill would cool him down. After having entered his rooms he collapsed onto his sofa and let his head fall back onto the rest with an exasperated sigh. He was ashamed of himself. He had let the werewolf get to him. The werewolf of all people. He stared at the ceiling, eyes half closed, and remembered the peaceful smile he had seen on the werewolf's lips the day before. He couldn't help it. Now that the feeling was there all he could do was ignore it. Try to forget it.

He wasn't a man to cultivate such feelings, it was too much of a risk. Betrayal, lies, disappointment, emotional pain. Those were the feelings that hid behind such an emotion; they were the feelings one had to expect when indulging in foolish sentimentalities. And he had sworn to himself, long ago, that he'd never again be so stupid to let anyone get close enough to him to be in the position of making him experience those feelings. He was sick of those feelings. Close interpersonal relationships meant trouble and suffering, so he had decided to have none. Albus didn't count.

What he seemed to feel for Lupin was an emotion which shone Gryffindor golden and not Slytherin silver. And since he was no naïve Gryffindor, searching for romance, sitting on a white horse in a shining armour, galloping through a – to cut a long story short: he was a Slytherin! And Slytherins did not indulge in sentimental feelings. Severus rubbed his eyes. It was hard to keep this reasoning steady when he was in Lupin's presence. Which meant that there was only one way of dealing with it.

During the next week Severus reestablished the avoiding and ignoring of the werewolf, that he had discarded in the week before the full moon. Whenever he saw Lupin approaching him or heard his voice, he turned on his heel and took a detour to go out of his way. The only occasions when he couldn't do so were the meals in the Great Hall. He didn't look down the table anymore, didn't glance at the other man and tried not to strain his ears when he heard him talk, since he rarely heard him laugh anymore. Already after the first day of silence from Severus's side, he had sensed the werewolf's stare on him during meals, and he felt an uncomfortable tingling where his eyes fixed him. And on the third day, he was quite sure of that, he had stopped hearing his chuckle. And, _Merlin_, he missed it! It was _so_ annoying! Most of the time all Severus did was glare at his food, as if it were at fault for everything.

Of course Albus had to notice. "Severus, my boy, are you alright?" he asked on the eighth day, meeting him, coincidentally of course, in a hallway. "You don't seem very fond of your food lately."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Get to the point, Headmaster," he mumbled turning towards him with a scowl. Albus frowned. "Did… anything happen between you and Remus?"

Severus stared at him. What in Salazar's name was he suggesting? "No!" he snapped and crossed his arms over his chest. Albus raised his eyebrows. "So you didn't fight again? I thought maybe you got angry at him again and shouted because he seems rather depressed and worried, whenever you are near or your name is mentioned." Severus kept staring. Oh, that was what he'd been suggesting. Why on earth had he suspected anything else? He shook his head more to himself than to Albus.

"Well, but something must have happened. Since the full moon you've been distancing yourself from him. So… would you like to talk about it?" the older wizard asked with a shrewd twinkle in his blue eyes. Severus glared at him. "No," he growled.

Albus smiled. "Then it either was something that you feel ashamed of or something… positive. Maybe both," he said and put a hand on Severus's shoulder. "Whatever it is Severus, you should not push it away. Engage in it. I think you should seize the chance." Severus froze at that, those words had an odd déjà-vu-effect on him. Albus nodded and proceeded down the corridor, leaving Severus behind.

The Potions master didn't move for a while, leaning against the stone wall, staring into nothingness. Eight days were a long time, actually they seemed like eight months. He sighed. Ignoring the werewolf only made the feelings inside him stronger. Perhaps, he thought, but only perhaps, Albus was right. Maybe confrontation was the only thing that could solve his troubles. But how should he confront the werewolf? One stare from those golden eyes and he'd be defenceless again. He wandered through the corridors, filled with students who were streaming into the opposite direction to lunch, thinking about whether or not it would be wise to talk to Lupin again, and if yes then about what? Maybe he should just reinstate his hostility but that hadn't worked before either, so, what was he to do?

And then suddenly there he was, standing right in front of him only a few feet away. Severus hadn't even noticed that his feet had carried him into the direction of the DADA classroom. "Oh, Hermione, stop worrying. Just write one scroll less than you usually do and it will still get ten out of ten, believe me," he said, courteously holding open the door of his classroom to the know-it-all Granger who seemed rather upset.

"But, Professor, I…" she stammered but he silenced her with a shake of his head. "It's alright, really. And now run off to lunch, will you?" he smiled and she turned round with a nod and passed Severus with a "Good afternoon, Professor" which he answered with a scowl.

"Severus?" Lupin said, having spotted him and Severus realised that it was too late to back out now. He nodded and met his golden eyes. Lupin smiled when he noticed that the Potions master had no intention of turning round and running away, and beckoned him inside his classroom. When Severus entered, slowly, hesitantly, he closed the door behind himself and watched Lupin, clean the blackboard by hand. "The Kappa" was written at the very top.

When he had finished, Lupin laid down the sponge he had used and bent his head, his back still towards Severus. Then he heaved a sigh and looked at the ceiling. "Why did you avoid me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. Severus had dreaded that question. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell him the truth.

"The full moon was over and I didn't have any responsibility concerning you anymore," he said coldly and Lupin looked at him. His eyes met his own and a second later Severus knew that he'd been seen through again. But Lupin didn't comment it, surprisingly, he just sat down on the edge of his teacher's desk and fixed him calmly.

"It is a Muggle saying, you know? 'Good medicine tastes bitter'. A pure-blood wizard wouldn't say anything like that. My mother used to say it, she was Muggle-born." Severus stared at him in confusion. Where had that come from? And what did he want to imply? "So, Severus… who was it? Your mother or your father? The Muggle-born I mean."

Severus stiffened. Nobody knew about his being a half-blood. Nobody but Dumbledore and maybe McGonagall. He had always kept that fact to himself. Not only was he respected more highly in the circles of pure-bloods like Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters in the war, he also had a very emotional reason for concealing the fact. "It's none of your business," he snarled and Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"What's the big deal? Why are you ashamed of it?" the werewolf asked and stepped closer to Severus. "I'm not," the Slytherin snapped and folded his arms tightly over his chest.

"Why don't you tell me then?"

Severus glared at him. He didn't have the right to inquire like this, it was private. He wouldn't tell him about his parents, it was too painful, too emotional. He wanted to blend out all emotion, if possible, and he wouldn't tell Lupin anything that would give him the impression that he was his confidant now. He wanted to show him the exact opposite, after all.

"Because I don't want to!" he growled finally. He didn't need to justify his reasons to him.

"So, that's it? I thought we had… well, become closer somehow. I thought something had changed."

At that Severus stiffened again. So he felt it, too. The change in their… it couldn't really be called a relationship, could it? He chose to avoid that topic for now. The change between them. "Did you expect me to become your best friend, just because we talked once? Well, I'm sorry if you miss Potter and Black but I have no interest in a pet werewolf, Lupin!" he snapped and was rather proud of himself that he had managed to be mean to the man. Then he noticed how pathetic that feeling was.

Lupin's face darkened a little. "Was that supposed to hurt me? Do you want to bully me?" he asked in a strangely calm voice that sent an unpleasant chill through Severus's body. He didn't answer. "Well, Severus, it doesn't work. You cannot bully me, I thought you had noticed that. And I think you shouldn't bully Neville so much either."

"Oh?" Severus said, stepping closer. "You tell me what I should do and what I shouldn't? If the boy doesn't do anything right then he doesn't deserve praise or consolation!"

"He's a child, Severus. He cannot help it. You should encourage him instead of scaring him, that doesn't help him!" the werewolf said, rising from his sitting position almost, almost agitatedly.

"It is not in my interest to help him. Those who don't have the gift are not worth my energy," Severus replied and was thrilled when he saw a tiny little flash of anger in the other's face. And there it was again; the desire to make him reveal all of his faces, make him drop his mask once more.

"Why do you do that to them? They're only children, Severus. They cannot defend themselves," Lupin said, his voice still calm.

"Really? Well, we would know, wouldn't we? Whom is this about now? Potter? Weasley? Or maybe Granger? Or have you declared yourself the hero of bullied children all over the world?" Severus said in his most sarcastic voice.

There was a few moments' silence in which the tension grew to an unbearable level and it felt to Severus like several years before the werewolf finally spoke again, "Funny how those who were victims of bullying become bullies themselves when they're grown up. Isn't that one of the least understandable never ending vicious circles?"

The blood in Severus's veins froze and cold fury welled up inside of him. "Well, you're the one who could've prevented it, aren't you?" he growled, trying to restrain himself from shouting. Lupin's eyes widened in shock and Severus felt an odd pleasure fight its way through the anger, but it wasn't strong enough to survive for long. "If you hadn't just looked away and done nothing about your bloody friends bullying me, maybe I'd be a completely different person today!" Not that he'd believe that. Not entirely.

Lupin looked away. Obviously _he_ wasn't eager on confrontation. "I know it was wrong, I know I should've done something, but… but I…" he stammered and ran his hands through his brown-grey hair.

"But what?" Severus snarled. "Did you lose your backbone when you were hurrying to my help?"

"I was scared, okay?" the werewolf replied in a desperate voice and it startled Severus. "I was afraid they'd stop being my friends if I stood up to them. For God's sake, Severus, they were the only people who never cared about my condition. They let me be with them despite my being a werewolf. I thought I'd never find friends like them again, and I… I was right!"

He clenched his hands into fists and Severus saw him trembling with agitation. He knew what the werewolf had feared back then. Loneliness. The loneliness that he had experienced after the Potters' deaths and Black's conviction. The loneliness he shared with Severus nowadays. The explanation was that of a werewolf who had so wanted to be a normal boy, not risking for anything the pseudo-normality he was given by his friends. But it wasn't enough for Severus. He had suffered while Lupin had felt happiness.

"I was egoistic, and I felt bad about it every day. But I'm a different person now, and I regret it. I didn't want these things to happen to you and I am sorry. Please, Severus," the werewolf continued with the greatest effort and his pleading eyes would almost have made Severus forget again. Almost.

"You didn't want it, eh?" he growled. "You didn't want any of that to happen to me? What about that night in fifth year? What about your little plan?"

Lupin shook his head. "I wasn't in on that," he whispered, lips hardly moving, tears welling up in his eyes.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Severus bellowed and Lupin flinched.

"I don't. I didn't know anything about it, neither did James. It was Sirius's idea!"

"You wanted to kill me!" Severus ignored the werewolf's desperate stammering and stepped closer to him.

"I didn't, Severus, why won't you lise –"

"YOU AREN'T ANY BETTER THAN THEM! WHY NOT THROW HIM TO THE WEREWOLF? NOBODY WILL CARE ANYWAYS!"

"I WASN'T IN ON IT!" Lupin screamed and a single tear rolled down his flushed cheek. "WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE ME? HE WANTED TO USE ME TO GET RID OF YOU! IT WAS HIS IDEA! I NEVER WANTED YOU TO GET HURT!

Severus was taken aback by his sudden outbreak. He looked down at the smaller man who was staring back at him, troubled eyes never leaving his cold ones, breathing quick and shallow. It was intriguing. Tempting. Sadness, happiness, shame, pride, nervousness, fear, confidence, despair, hope, pain, anger, peacefulness, hostility, affection. He had managed to make Lupin show all those emotions to him and it made the werewolf more fascinating with every new one.

And he believed him.

"I never disliked you," Lupin whispered and it unfroze Severus's blood, inciting that strange feeling again. And this time he didn't want to let it go. He felt his arm move on its own accord, to reach out and touch the werewolf, but stopped it in the last moment, before the other noticed.

"You can't imagine how I felt when I learnt of Sirius's terrible prank. I wouldn't have been able to live with it if anything had happened to you."

"Great friend, Black, huh?" Severus sneered and Lupin's eyes darkened, his brow creased and he looked profoundly disappointed.

"Obviously," he muttered and turned away only to whirl round again, stretching out his arms on each side of him in a gesture of helplessness. "Why are you doing this to me, Severus? Why do you want to hurt me?"

Severus couldn't answer, he just stood there, motionless. He wouldn't tell him the truth but he couldn't think of a plausible lie, or a good enough insult now, so he kept quiet. Lupin waited, impatiently and when the silence stretched he said something that startled Severus, "What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared," Severus said quietly and was sure that Lupin _knew_ something. He read him like a book and it was stunningly relieving that he didn't need to say anything, that Lupin just _knew_. At that very moment, though, Severus only saw the negative aspects of that gift. He didn't want Lupin to know what he felt.

"I know you don't think much of being close to someone," Lupin said startling Severus once again. "I… just thought… I thought there was something between us. Something we share."

He was right of course. They did share something. They shared the moment they had experienced after the Blue Moon. Severus could still feel it, the pleasant silence, could still see the peaceful smile on the werewolf's face. And suddenly he felt peaceful, too, wishing back the moment.

"I am not interested in sharing anything with anyone," he muttered in a desperate try to make him give up, make him go away.

"But that's a lie," Lupin said, and Severus had the impression that there was suppressed anger in his hoarse voice. "Maybe I got too close to you that morning. Is that what makes you uneasy?"

The Potions master glared at him. He wasn't _uneasy_. He was scared. And now he had admitted it. He didn't want to risk getting hurt again, showing his soul to someone who might rip it apart. And yet he knew that actually he wanted the exact contrary. He wished he could just forget all his fear and open himself to the werewolf but he couldn't. Even though the hatred had miraculously disappeared. No actually, it wasn't a miracle.

"I can't stand it," Severus muttered to himself, but Lupin obviously thought he had meant him, since his face flushed again and his voice shook with anger. "Well, I'm sorry if I got too close to you, Severus, it was certainly not my intention to get on your nerves!" And Severus thought that there was something else he wanted to say, it was in his eyes, another emotion. But who'd look at him like that. Had he looked at Lupin like that?

"I do not want you close to me!" Severus snarled and tried to hide the fear in his voice. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Lupin found out about his feelings and rejected them. Who would want _Snivellus _to feel for one like that?

"Then tell me to stay away from you, and I will," the werewolf said, his voice calm but tense. Severus hesitated. It was so easy. Just one sentence, four words, but his mouth wouldn't form them. And again Lupin saw right through him, Severus's black eyes were like windows to him.

"But you don't want me to go away, either, right?" he said, his voice soft again, stepping close to Severus, his golden eyes full of everything Severus feared and adored. "You would've left already if you did. We agreed, Severus, that we are alike, and at the same time we are as different as possible. We have so much in common and yet what it made of us is so different."

Severus looked to the floor. He had thought the exact same thing, only from another point of view. They both knew pain, of every possible kind. But that didn't make it any easier to trust him. He trusted him not to laugh, since malicious glee was not one of the emotions in his repertoire, but he didn't trust him not to hurt him, on purpose or not. Nobody could be trusted in that matter.

"I am scared, too, believe me. But when I'm with you it is as if I had finally found someone who understands me, who feels the same way I do. And I think it's the same to you," Lupin continued and Severus raised his eyes again, meeting the werewolf's golden ones and letting them look through him deliberately for the first time. Though the other man was standing a foot away, Severus could feel the warmth radiating off him. "You needn't even say anything. And if you do, you tell me so much without many words. Without the right words, too."

"I'm an open book to you, am I not?" Severus muttered, a little hurt in his pride, but somehow he had this feeling again. He felt as if it meant something.

The werewolf chuckled huskily and Severus felt as if gravitation had ceased to exist, his stomach fuzzy again and his head so very light. Merlin, he had missed his chuckle! How annoying.

"I wouldn't put it like that but…" Lupin trailed off. "I feel as if I were healing, when we're together. It's definitely a painful process but it is positive. And I think that means something. When I'm with you I do not feel ashamed, I hate myself much less. I am sure that it means something. It is something that is very rare."

Severus rested his eyes on Lupin's lips, taking in every word, every syllable that again described his very feelings in a way that he could never manage. It was a connection and it was special. It was-

"Very precious," the werewolf continued, voicing Severus's thought and he was taken aback. It had happened before. On the steps before the castle. They both loved the scent. The mixture of moist soil and stone. Severus knew they were so very alike, and yet they were like day and night. "We are the results of what life threw at us. And now life is throwing us at each other. Why shouldn't we seize that chance, Severus? I showed myself to you, so you have an advantage. Why not show me a bit of yourself, now?"

The Potions master didn't know what to say, he wasn't sure what Lupin meant. They shared something that he couldn't share with anyone else; they were both broken. It was indeed a healing experience. And when the werewolf held out his hand to him with the first really genuine smile on his face, a smile that touched his eyes, shining with that nameless emotion, and the same word on his red lips, 'Stay', a request not an order, he felt chaos break loose inside of himself.

Desire and fear were battling, and it was agonising when he faced the revelations about himself which he just couldn't deny anymore. He was more frightened than ever before, frightened of his feelings and their consequences.

He wasn't ready to utter it, but he loved the way the werewolf shouted at him and contradicted him and stood up to him, how he encouraged him and understood him and smiled at him, enjoying his company instead of despising it like all the others; he loved his every expression, his every face, his every voice and he wanted to see them all, feel them all directed at him. And he loved the effect he finally had on the werewolf.

He wanted to let Lupin find out every secret he was hiding from the world, wanted him to find the words for his own thoughts and feelings, wanted him to continue to treat him with affection like his eyes seemed to promise, and he wanted to be healed by him and heal him in exchange. He wanted to open up his walls and let Lupin in.

Suddenly he had the almost irresistible urge to seize him and pull him close. His body was yearning for the other man, his mind screaming in demand of him; and it was all he could do not to give in to it. Instead he turned on his heel and ran from the room, ran away from his feelings and the need to act upon them. Fear had won over desire. He ran away like the Slytherin he was, but inside of him, he knew but wasn't brave enough to let Lupin know, the prominent emotion shone Gryffindor golden. Like his eyes.


	9. Porcelain

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Porcelain**

It was empty. And hollow, and dark. Severus was staring down into the cauldron standing in front of him on the table. He started glaring. It was like him. He felt empty and hollow and dark inside. And he hated it. After having run from Lupin's classroom the day before he hadn't dared eat in the Great Hall or leave the dungeons for any errand at all. He flooed to the places he needed to go to. He didn't want to risk meeting Lupin. He wasn't entirely sure why he didn't want to meet the other. Was it shame, because he had run away? Or was it fear, because it had been hard not to stay the last time and it would be even harder the next time? Severus supposed it was a bit of both.

"Er… Professor?" said a hesitant voice from behind the cauldron and Severus directed his glare at its source, a frightened Hufflepuff second year. "C-could I start with the potion now?"

Severus looked back to the cauldron and then glanced round him through the classroom. He had completely forgotten where he was, surrounded by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, brewing a Sleeping Draught. He turned in a swirl of robes and made his way to his desk before the blackboard.

When he sat down he noticed that he hadn't snapped at the boy at all. He was so distressed by the business with Lupin that he was growing careless. He heaved a sigh and fixed his eyes on his hands, folded in his lap. It was maddening. He could face the Dark Lord as a spy and lie to him without fear but he couldn't face Lupin and tell him to leave him alone. Because he knew the werewolf had been right: actually, he didn't want him to leave him alone. He was scared of himself, scared he might lose control over his body one day and indeed pull the werewolf close.

Severus shivered. He wondered how it would feel. How _he _would feel. Soft, probably, despite his thin frame, fragile, for sure. And warm. Yes, definitely warm. He could barely remember how it felt to have arms embracing him, to have someone so close to him that he could really _feel_ them. It made him long for the other man. Long for his touch. A brush of his fingers, a hand on his arm. Anything would be fine. If he would only touch him.

Suddenly he noticed that his eyes were unfocused and snapped out of his disastrous daydream. He shouldn't think about such things! It was counterproductive. Severus had stopped trying to deny his feelings, physical and emotional, for the werewolf but he should at least be capable of suppressing those thoughts and dreams and images of him. He wasn't. It happened all the time. It was disturbing and he could slap himself for it. And the werewolf. He felt so angry at him that he supposed he'd hex the sense out of him as soon as he saw him again. It was all his fault! Why couldn't Lupin just hate him? Then everything wouldn't be half as difficult and complicated. Why did he need to offer… _something_… to him? And again the Potions master felt himself hoping for _something_ to be… well, _the_ something. He couldn't even think what he wanted it to be. His mind forbade it. The rational part at least. The irrational part pleaded for more of the werewolf's presence. It really was maddening.

He missed the werewolf's smile and his angry expression and all the things he had let Severus see in the last weeks. He could kick himself. Something like that shouldn't have happened to him. It just shouldn't have happened. He had thought that he was immune to such Gryffindor feelings and he had been terribly mistaken. Now he knew that ignoring those feelings just didn't work, the more time he spent trying to forget about the werewolf the stronger grew his desire for him. Confrontation was even more dangerous, as he'd experienced the day before; he would almost have given in. And since yesterday he even worried if he had hurt the other by his sudden flight. He seized his hair, lowering his head and restraining himself from screaming his frustration through the cold dungeon. It was simply unbearable.

After having bullied a few students, making one of them cry and giving another detention without achieving the required effect of improving his mood, he dismissed the class and retired to his rooms, sitting down on the sofa with a glass of wine in his hand, staring into the empty fireplace. He didn't hate the werewolf anymore, hadn't even got a good reason left for it. He believed him that he hadn't been in on the prank in fifth year, and everything else was only that dull ache but not flaming anger. The fear was still present, gnawing at his insides, but since the last night when he had lain awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, as if he could see through the many floors that lay between his bedroom and Lupin's, there was a new feeling inside him, the feeling that he was missing something, that actually, the risk might be worth it. And hadn't he seen that look in those golden eyes, that look of more than plain affection?

In his imagination he repeated the moment when Lupin had held out his hand again and again. What if he had taken it? What would have happened? It was agonising not to know. He needed to know. And at the same time he was too scared to find out. Would the other man even want to hold out his hand once more? Would he still claim that there was something between them? Something precious? Would he listen to Severus? And what should he tell him to show him that he was serious? Did he need to say anything at all? And was he really serious?

He took a sip of wine and closed his eyes. He was still confused. Actually he was completely clueless. He wasn't used to this. He felt as if his brain were temporarily out of order, due to overload. He felt helpless. But he needed to make a decision. He couldn't hide in the dungeons forever. Not that he'd have a problem with it but Albus would drag him out one day and force him to sort out his differences with Lupin, and Severus wanted to spare himself the humiliation. After all, he'd already had enough of that. Self-inflicted.

The question was: give in to fear or to his emotions. In any case it meant giving in. He didn't like that. But he only had those two choices, so he had to weigh them against each other. Fear was secure. No risk of being hurt or used or rejected, or of losing his reputation. But then again he would never know how it would have been with the werewolf. And what it would have been.

The Potions master knew what attracted him to the other, he had seen it all before running from it. The werewolf was indeed tempting. Severus had never met anyone in his whole life who combined so many character traits in themselves that were so absolutely tempting to him.

Severus wanted more of the understanding. He wanted more fights that he couldn't win, more of his voice uttering Severus's own thoughts. He wanted those eyes to look through him and _know_. He wanted him to… he wanted _him_.

His eyes snapped open. There it was. The answer. It was all he needed to know. Anything else was meaningless. He drained his wine and got up, determined, face stern. He always insisted that he was no coward. He would prove it now. He needed to. Otherwise he would always regret it; if he didn't seize the chance that was presented to him now, he would forever believe that it was a mistake. It was worth the risk, he was sure of that now. He wanted that empty feeling to disappear. And maybe this could be considered a victory over fear instead of a giving in to his feelings.

And he had to see him now, otherwise he might miss the moment, change his mind again. When the Potions master left the dungeons he thought about what to say to the werewolf, how to tell him that he wanted to take his offer after all. He felt his hands tremble and clenched them to fists, wishing for one more Gryffindor trait: bravery. The long way up to Lupin's office was not even half as long as it usually was, or so it seemed to Severus. He was surprised when he found himself in the corridor it was situated in without having found any words to say.

The office door was open and when Severus approached it and glanced inside, careful not to make any noise, though he was quite sure that the werewolf had already sensed him, he saw Lupin bending over his desk, back to the door, hands on the tabletop, apparently brooding over some papers again. Then he raised his hand with a sigh and rubbed his neck, where Severus's eyes fixed him, looking out of the window. He didn't say anything, though, apparently waiting for the Potions master to make the first move, without pressure. Suddenly Severus knew what he had to say. He stepped forward and took a deep breath. He would make him his confidant.

"It was my father," he said and Lupin turned his head to look at him with a questioning expression, not surprised, though, rather… expectant. "The Muggle, I mean. My father – or the scum that called himself my father – was a Muggle. Not even a Muggle-born wizard. Just a Muggle. Meaning there's more magic in your veins than in mine," he added and felt like running away again when Lupin's eyes narrowed and he turned round, sitting down on the table. There was a short silence in which Severus waited for a verbal reaction and Lupin's golden eyes searched his black ones. When they had found them Lupin smiled a little but it was a sad smile. "Was that the reason why you didn't want to tell me?"

Severus hesitated, then shook his head. "No, that was not it. He…" he swallowed and averted his eyes, so he wouldn't need to look into Lupin's when he said, "He hit my mother. And me. They shouted at each other almost every day and it… it was terrible." He couldn't say more. It had been an enormous effort to say even that much and now he didn't have enough energy left to continue anymore. He glanced at the werewolf who was still staring at him, golden eyes full of pain and his brows knitted, fortunately demanding no more information.

"I am sorry, Severus, I didn't know," he said quietly and got up from his desk.

The Slytherin shook his head. "I… I didn't want to… yesterday, I mean…" Severus stammered and rolled his eyes at himself. He just couldn't say that he was sorry or that it had been a mistake. He couldn't say the words. But he didn't need to. Lupin knew.

"It's okay, Severus," the werewolf said and pointed at the chair Severus had sat in the last time he'd been visiting. Severus stepped closer and felt the warmth again, saw his hair up close and it looked soft, shiny, unlike Severus's lanky hair. Lupin smiled, walking round the table to take out his teabags. "Tea?"

Severus nodded and sat down, taking the cup Lupin held out to him. "It was my father, too," the werewolf said, pouring some water over his teabag, putting three cubes of sugar into the tea. Severus looked at him, waiting for the rest of the story, patiently. He saw in the other's face that it wasn't easy for him to talk about it. "He… insulted Greyback. You know him, I suppose?" Severus nodded curtly and didn't even need to hear more to know what had happened. "Well, Greyback didn't think that it was very funny and after finding out that my father had a little son, me, he positioned himself in front of our house before the full moon and… that's how I became what I am." He forced a laugh, but it was cold and painful to the ears.

"Your father, did he have another choice?" Severus asked quietly.

"He had the choice not to insult him. Though I'm quite sure he was right to reject him, whatever it was they were fighting about. Still, he should have known better. He had a responsibility toward his family more than to his principles," Lupin said and lowered his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Severus kept silent for a while, sipping on his tea. He didn't know what to say in such a situation. He had always avoided people and had always been avoided, so he didn't know any words of comfort. But he felt as if Lupin didn't need any now, just someone who was there, someone who would listen and understand. His warm golden eyes moved over Severus's torso, clad in black, to his hands, holding the teacup and just as white as the porcelain, until they came to rest on his face, expressionless, or so Severus hoped, eyes blacker even than his robes, cold like ice and gazing back into Lupin's trying to see his soul in them like the werewolf did in his.

He couldn't do it yet, though, didn't have the gift the werewolf had, would probably never gain it. Maybe he didn't need to. It was intriguing that Lupin could see his thoughts and feelings even though Severus could conceal them even from Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. But he didn't hide much from Severus either, at least nothing which was current at the very moment they were spending with each other. And Severus was good at recognising expressions.

"I take it you are not surprised I came here?" Severus said and raised an eyebrow. The other smiled.

"No," he answered and Severus glowered at him. Again he had been read, again Lupin had known before he had even known it himself. But somehow, it had a singular fascination to it, that gift of Lupin's. "You see, I was sure you'd come, just not about what you'd do. Either you'd hex me or you'd do what you just did… I'm happy it turned out like this." He chuckled and Severus shivered, pleasantly, he was used to it by now, had accepted it, welcomed it even.

"May I ask," Lupin said after having taken a sip of the tea, "why you came? What made you change your mind?"

Severus hesitated. He wasn't sure what to say, how to put his answer without giving Lupin the impression that he was having sentimental feelings for him, which he was, but wasn't ready to say out loud. Instead he decided to stay neutral. As neutral as he could at least.

"You were right. Something changed between us," he said quietly and fixed Lupin with narrowed eyes, taking in his reaction. "There is something between us… something… precious… and I have realised since yesterday, that I don't want to be without it anymore, after having experienced it in completion." He said 'it' because he couldn't say 'you'. He said 'don't want' because he couldn't say 'can't'. But to Lupin it was enough, obviously, since his eyes had widened and his hands had tightened around his cup, almost breaking it, a smile spreading over his face which touched Severus deep down.

It took the werewolf a few moments until he had found his voice again. "Really?" he asked though he must already know the answer. Severus nodded his head slowly and felt embarrassed when he saw a new emotion in those golden eyes: joy.

Severus swallowed and intertwined his fingers to keep himself from reaching out and brushing a stray lock of hair out of Lupin's face. He felt that urge again and his body begged to touch him. Begged to be touched. And wasn't satisfied. Yet.

"Me, neither," the Gryffindor said, raising his cup to his red lips. And Severus wasn't in the slightest surprised by the pleasure it incited inside of him. But he decided that this was as much as he could manage today so he set down his own empty teacup and got to his feet. "Thank you," he said and waited for Lupin to walk to the door and open it.

"I must admit, I am relieved. Thank you for coming, Severus. Thanks for the glimpse," he said with that smile. "I was worried we'd miss this chance as well. I thought maybe you didn't want to associate with a… a Dark Creature," his voice changed to a strange tone at the last words.

Severus didn't move, just looked at him and wondered why Lupin had even let him in again. Why he hadn't sent him away, after all Severus had hurt him the day before, hadn't he? And now he even referred to them as 'we', it had a nice sound to it.

And then it was on his lips, a thought he had fostered for quite a while now, ever since Lupin had called himself a Dark Creature that day after the full moon, "You, a Dark Creature? Who would ever call you that?"

His face was cold and his posture stiff, making it possible that his statement could be mistaken for sarcasm, but just before he stepped over the threshold and out of the werewolf's office, he let him meet his eyes and enjoyed the look of startled surprise on his face. He made to leave but suddenly there was a tingling in his fingers, where Lupin's brushed them in a gesture of holding him back which had been stopped just a little too late.

Severus looked down at the other's hand which was now hovering in mid-air, one inch away from his own. He could feel Lupin's sheepish smile even before he saw it. His lips formed a silent 'thank you' and Severus lowered his head in half a nod, waiting for the averted ambers to show him the werewolf's emotions. He shifted a little to the side, as if by accident, making their fingers touch again, warmth spreading up his arm. The werewolf's eyes shot up, shining, and cheerful, the tears that were welling up in them completely different from those Severus had seen the day before.

"You do deserve second chances, you know," Lupin whispered and lowered his arm, stepping back into his office. "I hope we will repeat this?" Severus inclined his head and turned to leave, his robes billowing in his wake when he heard the door close. He touched his fingers where Lupin's had been and tried to remember the sensation. And the emptiness was replaced by it.

Then he realised that actually, the decision to accept Lupin's offer had been inevitable since the Blue Moon; Lupin had touched his soul on that very morning, his well-protected, unreachable, sensitive soul, breakable as the porcelain they had drunk from, laying into the Potions master's hands his own fragile soul, winning not only one battle, but the whole war. The fortress Severus had built around himself had been snuck into and taken silently by the werewolf then, its walls had crumbled under Severus's hands, were crumbling still, unstoppably. And he was grateful they did, since they had left himself as little way out as the world had had to get in. It was a relief, though still scary.

Yes, he thought, we will repeat it.

They were both made of porcelain, easy to break when handled too carelessly. But porcelain could be mended, as could they.


	10. Poetry

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Did you ever notice how poetic Severus's language is in the books? For example first year when he talks about Potions. That's where I got the idea for the second half of this chapter from. Of course I'm not as good a poet as Severus, that is Rowling, but I tried ;). Enjoy.

**Poetry**

He was unfortunate. Very unfortunate. Severus had hoped that his head would clear a little after his making a decision; but he had again been mistaken. Now that he had 'engaged in' the situation and started to try and establish a… relationship – he had decided that, yes, it was one (he had even looked up the definition in an encyclopedia) – he wasn't troubled by doubts which decision might be the best anymore and whether he should risk giving up the safety of his loneliness or take the chance to receive… something from the werewolf. But he was still troubled. He couldn't lay his finger on it but something was still troubling him.

Whenever he met Lupin in a corridor or at meals in the Great Hall, he received a smile from him. Not one of those polite smiles that everyone got; it was new. Special. As if it were only for Severus. And it made his stomach even fuzzier than all the smiles he had seen on Lupin's lips before. And now that Severus didn't hide from Lupin or avoid him anymore, he saw a lot of those smiles. He even caught himself taking detours to the places he needed to go to so that he'd meet the werewolf for sure and get his smile. He wished that there weren't only the possibility of bottling fame but of capturing that sweet smile in a phial so he could look at it whenever he wanted to. And he wanted to look at it very often. That made him nervous and he was lucky that he could conceal it so well.

There had been no further meetings in the past five days, due to workload and Severus's incapability of asking Lupin for a cup of tea. It annoyed him that after having finished his brewing and grading in the evening, sitting down on his sofa, he felt himself yearning for the other man's presence so much that he'd set fire in the grate and pretend that the warmth coming off it was the body warmth of Lupin's. The day before, his own behaviour had made him so angry with himself that he'd thrown his glass from him and stamped into the bedroom, slamming the door and almost tearing the covers when he yanked them over his body. In the morning he had scolded himself for behaving like a petulant child, mending the broken wine glass.

But he couldn't help being troubled. He missed Lupin's voice and his chuckle and the depths of his eyes. Gleaming like a freshly brewed cauldron full of Felix Felicis, swirling with emotion like the potion when stirred, warm and promising. Severus felt himself grow warmer at the thought of Lupin's eyes and stopped the images in his mind. The Potions master knew that he couldn't bear this state much longer. The state of not knowing when he would be alone with the other again.

The only times when Severus met Lupin were those casual every day occasions in the staff room and the Great Hall, on which, and that surprised Severus, the werewolf kept the required distance. Apart from a smile now and then when no one was looking there was no attempt of getting into contact while they were in company. During meals he was seated on the other end of the table anyway. In the staff room he took his usual seat by the window normally beside McGonagall and Severus found himself to be the one magically drawn to the other, sitting down opposite, though never next to him. As he had today.

Lupin seemed to notice that and glanced over to Severus more and more often, searching the Potions master's eyes, but he didn't seem to dare talk to him. He seemed to respect something that Severus hadn't even uttered but obviously showed in his behaviour, or his eyes, or some other part of him Lupin could read. He respected Severus's wish not to display their relationship before the staff, not to speak of the students. And Severus was grateful for it. He had feared that Lupin would demand friendly treatment in every situation, that he wouldn't understand that Severus couldn't provide that, not yet, maybe never. It was relieving that he had again been wrong.

The Potions master cocked his head to one side, watching Lupin look out of the window at Hagrid who was throwing an enormous branch for Fang to fetch. Actually he wished for the other to talk to him, ask him for another cup of tea in his office. A subtle question maybe, that Severus could answer positively with a cold look on his face so that everyone would think that he still hated the werewolf. He wanted another meeting, wanted to be alone with Lupin again, but he didn't know how to ask for it. And apart from that, he was afraid again. In which way would their connection unfold? How could he steer it into the direction he wanted it to go into? And if it did, would he be able to handle it? Would he be up to it? He wasn't the romantic type and he feared that by being himself he would scare the Gryffindor off in the end. It was troubling, indeed.

He sighed softly, propping his chin up on his fist, feeling defiant once again. He just wasn't used to this. Whatever _this_ was. It had felt… pleasant… to talk to Lupin and he wished he could step over the remainders of his fortress's walls to approach him, but since he had used up all his energy and bravery when he had made his decision five days before, he needed to wait for the werewolf to take the next step. And it took him extraordinarily long. Though Severus was sure that he hadn't changed his mind about them. About us, Severus thought and frowned, there… is an us. And it was a good thing that at least Severus knew the latest date of their next meeting would be the week before the full moon.

Suddenly he noticed that Lupin was looking at him, his eyes twinkling quite Dumbledorish and his lips curled up into a small smile that looked as if he were trying to suppress it but couldn't quite manage. Severus averted his eyes and thought of something to say, some snide remark which wasn't too mean but helped him avoid the obligatory question. He didn't come up with one, though, and grew nervous under the werewolf's golden stare which left a tingling sensation on his skin. He was grateful therefore when McGonagall turned up, sitting down next to Lupin, starting a conversation. She seemed quite fond of him and when Severus looked up to see Lupin's interested eyes on her, just as fond of the Transfiguration teacher as she was of him, he felt jealousy crawl into himself and tried to push it out again.

"Potter's just asked me to allow him to go to Hogsmeade on Hallowe'en. Because his uncle failed to do so," she said and Severus scowled. Potter seemed to be the favourite topic lately and for his taste Lupin was far too interested in the brat.

"Did you?" asked the werewolf and Severus wondered whether he had forgotten what kind of teacher McGonagall was.

"Of course not!" the witch said and raised an eyebrow at Lupin. "I'm not his guardian and therefore it would be inappropriate."

Lupin nodded and seemed… relieved. "Well, I guess it is better that way. Though I'm sorry that his aunt and uncle seem to treat him rather badly, after all he ran away from them. Still I think it is better if he doesn't leave the grounds with… with Black on the loose," he hesitated at Black's name and Severus thought it might be his fault, for bringing up Black while they had been fighting.

"Yes, I think so, too. Maybe he can go next year," McGonagall said and straightened her square spectacles. "It would be far too dangerous if he went to Hogsmeade… though Black can hardly sneak in there without anyone noticing."

Lupin fidgeted and it made Severus frown. "Umm… sure. But then again… he escaped from Azkaban, so we shouldn't underestimate him. That would be a grave mistake."

"I wonder how he did it…" McGonagall said and again, Lupin fidgeted.

"Who knows…" he mumbled and leant back in his chair with a shaky sigh.

The Transfiguration Professor smiled a little, giving him a sideways glance. "Let's just hope that Potter won't do anything stupid. He is so much like his father. And I still remember the four of you running wild in the castle and the grounds, only mischief on your minds and never concerned with rules or safety."

Lupin chuckled. Uneasily, though. "You have no idea…" he muttered and rubbed his neck, carefully avoiding her eyes; and Severus's.

"But then again… Potter usually ends up in trouble, playing the hero, doesn't he?" Severus sneered and the other two Professors turned to look at him.

"Well, yes, that's right of course… though, up to now he's always done a good job, not that I approve of his actions…" McGonagall replied and looked a little _too_ proud and approving. Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, sure, if we hadn't got Potter to stop all the evil in the world, we'd all be lost. Let's make a parade for him. I'm surprised that such a thing hasn't been established yet," Severus retorted his voice dripping with sarcasm, causing Lupin to raise his eyebrows even higher and McGonagall to scowl.

"Harry _is_ quite the hero, isn't he? Maybe one day it will get him into serious trouble," the werewolf said in a worried voice and flinched when Fang let out a loud bark close to the window.

"Hopefully," said Severus quietly and got a "Severus!" from both Lupin and McGonagall. "Maybe the thought of a large black hell dog chasing after him will prevent him from leaping head first into life threatening danger this year. But after all, even a Basilisk couldn't do it," the Potions master added and almost, but just almost wished the beast had eaten the boy last year.

"He's brave," Lupin said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"He's a Gryffindor," McGonagall agreed too proudly.

Severus rolled his eyes. He's stupid, was what he wanted to say but he didn't want to annoy Lupin. Actually, on second thought, he did. A nice flash of anger would suit him well right now. But Severus had already missed the moment, since the two Gryffindors had turned away again.

"Did Harry see a black dog at all?" Lupin asked and Severus couldn't believe that the werewolf was that superstitious. "Why, Lupin, you don't believe that a giant dog is following the boy to bite his head off, do you?" he sneered and the werewolf looked at him, his golden eyes worried. "Of course not," he replied but Severus didn't quite believe him.

"As far as I know, the boy hasn't seen any such thing… but I'm not the one he would confide in if it were so, don't you think?" McGonagall said and Lupin nodded, biting his lip; it was curious.

The rest of their joined free lesson was spent in silence, except for McGonagall offering the two wizards a piece of shortbread, which they both took, Severus with the knowledge that it was indeed good and Lupin because "if Severus takes one they must be good". McGonagall laughed at that and Severus raised an eyebrow receiving one of those sweet smiles, forcing him to look away to hide his shiver.

When they left the staff room for the next lesson it seemed to Severus that Lupin intentionally brushed against him when they were passing through the doorway at the same time, arms touching slightly, because when he looked down at the werewolf he saw him smile to himself, careful not to meet the Potions master's eyes. Severus watched him walk away into the direction of his classroom and when he had disappeared behind a corner the Potions master made his way down into the dungeons.

His afternoon lessons went as usual, though surprisingly quietly, without exploding cauldrons. Severus was looking forward to dinner, which meant he was looking forward to seeing Lupin again. But when he wandered into the Great Hall absent-mindedly, his thoughts on the potion he would have to brew for the infirmary that night, he noticed that Lupin was not there yet. He was a little disappointed, chewing on his steak listlessly, waiting in vain for the werewolf to turn up. Obviously his work had not got less and he hadn't found the time to have dinner in the Hall. Severus cursed himself for not being able to walk up to him and ask for one of his teabags. He didn't know what to say or do. He was nervous whenever he thought about meeting Lupin in private, about the other touching his soul again. He was scared of the pain and yet he yearned for the pleasure. And what if he said the wrong thing or was too harsh or rude? What if he hurt the werewolf? He was not capable of comforting him or of apologising. He was sure he'd spoil it. And then everything would have been in vain.

After dinner, Severus went directly into his laboratory and put a cauldron onto the fire grumpily. He was facing yet another silent and lonely evening in his rooms without Lupin's soothing hoarse voice and his husky chuckle. It was annoying. He couldn't concentrate. He opened a drawer of his ingredients cupboard, took out everything he needed for the potion and noticed that he was about to slice wolfsbane instead of daisy root almost too late. He restrained himself from hurling his knife across the room only with great effort and put the wolfsbane back into the drawer. When he started slicing the daisy root there was a knock on the door and Severus looked up. Who could that be? Usually nobody came into his laboratory, only Albus, sometimes.

"Yes?" he called and started when he heard a hoarse voice answering.

"It is I, Severus, may I come in?"

It was Lupin. In front of his lab door. Severus hesitated for a few seconds, that was what he'd been waiting for, right? He laid down his knife when he finally said, "Enter." The door swung open and Lupin came in, smiling, obviously in a good mood but tired none the less. "Hello," he said cheerfully and approached Severus who was watching him warily. "Are you brewing?" the werewolf asked and nodded at the ingredients.

Severus looked down and took up his knife again to slice the daisy root, double checking if it really was daisy root this time. "Yes, obviously," he muttered when he threw the root into the cauldron, producing a nice bubbling noise. "Am I disturbing you?" Lupin asked quietly and Severus knew that he wanted him to say no. He could barely stop himself from saying 'yes', when he almost diced yet another wrong ingredient, putting it back to the others and taking the right one. He bit his tongue, though, because he didn't want him to leave, and shook his head.

"I don't know if it will be very entertaining to watch me brew," Severus said coolly, dropping the diced ginger into the cauldron and the potion's colour changed from light blue to red, simmering softly when Severus stirred once to the right and twice to the left. Again it changed its colour to a pale pink and Severus nodded in satisfaction.

"Oh, it is entertaining," the werewolf said and when Severus looked at him in confusion he added, "You look satisfied. It is interesting to watch the expressions on your face. You really are fascinated with potions, aren't you?"

Severus poured leech juice into the potion, enjoying the pleasant smile on Lupin's face, and stirred again. The steam rising from the cauldron between them curled around the other's golden eyes. Severus couldn't see him properly anymore and waved his hand through the air to get a clear view again. The melodious simmering of the potion was a nice accompaniment to the werewolf's hoarse voice. "I am," he answered finally and thought to himself, as with you.

"I was never really good at it," Lupin smiled and walked round the table to watch Severus cut off the heads of some cockroaches. "It was always a torture to me. Afraid of blowing up a cauldron."

Severus smirked slightly, adding the cockroach heads to the draught. "It is an art. And it is common knowledge that not everyone is an artist," he said silkily and enjoyed the husky chuckle he earned from the werewolf. He wanted more of that. He needed a whole lot of it to store it away for bad times. Which would surely come.

"I do not have the gift, do I?" Lupin said with amusement in his voice and Severus's smirk vanished. "What I said doesn't apply to you. After all, I do not have to waste my time teaching you," he said and stirred the potion again.

"Just a joke, Severus," the werewolf said and leant against the table, so close to Severus that he was only an inch away from _too_ close, picking up a rat tail, thoughtfully, staring at it in silence, looking a little upset, though Severus didn't understand why. After a while the Potions master took it from him to cut it and their fingers brushed, causing Severus to linger a moment longer than he would have needed.

"Don't you think that some of the ingredients are disgusting?" Lupin asked and made a face when he heard the bone crack. Severus raised an eyebrow. He was used to people not understanding the beauty of potion-making. But usually he wouldn't bother explaining why it was beautiful.

"The ingredients are colours and the order in which I add them to the potion is the composition of the picture that I will paint with them. This –" he said raising his ladle, "is my brush and I am the painter, naturally. And the finished potion –" he poured some of the potion into a glass that was standing beside the cauldron, showing it to Lupin, "is my work of art."

The werewolf took the glass from him and his eyes shone with delight when he held the potion up to the flickering light that came from the torches on the walls, watching the potion change colour from green to blue and back again when he tilted the glass a little. "You must be proud of it."

Severus watched him. He loved to see his work finished, perfect and beautiful, but he loved it even more to see Lupin admire it. "I put effort in it, I perfect recipes and instructions. Sometimes it is dirty and takes a lot of time and hard work, but when it's finished and I feel the magic pulsing from it, it gives me satisfaction. And yes… I think I am proud."

Lupin looked at him and smiled, giving Severus the feeling that McGonagall was not the only one the werewolf was fond of. "Well, you are very good at it. Maybe you are the best," he said and handed Severus back the potion. The Potions master felt an odd pride at those words. As if it meant more when Lupin said it than when anyone else did, although the werewolf wasn't even close to being an expert. And to Severus it did. He looked down into the glass and saw Lupin's reflection in it.

"Maybe," he answered and put the glass down, noticing again how very close Lupin was to him. He could feel the warmth again and if he had moved his hand only a few inches to the right it would have touched the werewolf's. But Lupin seemed to have a very good sense of personal space since he remained at the very border of Severus's. The Potions master turned and took a few phials out of the cupboard to fill them with the potion, labeling them and putting them down neatly, side by side on the table.

Suddenly he felt the urge to tell Lupin about his fascination for potions, knowing somehow that the werewolf would be interested, would want to know, like no one else would. "You see," he said, letting his fingers ghost over the phials, "spells are useful, but most people are good at them. Potion-making is something that you must have a feeling for. You should realise the beauty of the swirling fumes, rising in all colours and smells from the singing cauldron with its valuable content, promising peace and chaos, love and hatred, sanity and madness, life and death with its bubbling voice. If you don't, you will never be much of a potions-brewer. You can keep to the instructions but there is a difference between the stoic mixing of ingredients to achieve a result that merely fulfills its function and the creative and skillful fusing of substance, timing and stirring to produce a potion which is not only functional, but perfect and extraordinary in effect. A certain fascination is essential," he paused and looked round at Lupin who was smiling slightly, brows knitted in careful concentration.

"It must be frustrating that you cannot pass on your enthusiasm to many others," he said and took one of the phials, closing his fist around it. "Though it would be worth some more appreciation, wouldn't it?"

Severus swallowed and indeed felt enthusiastic, he could have sworn that his eyes were gleaming. "A potion is almighty, it can control your body and your mind, all of you; invading your body it can either form the very stream on which you will undertake your last journey in the boat that will bring you to the other side, where there waits only eternal darkness, or it can wash away your every sickness, your every wound, your every concern, with the waves of its magical liquid, lifting you up into the heavens to a place where there is no sadness.

"It can be liquid love, creating an illusion so perfect that you will never be able to tell reality from imagination, lover from enemy. While flowing through human veins it will warm a cold heart, open ignorant eyes and finally satisfy the loneliest of souls.

"The darkest of truths can be found and revealed no matter how deeply buried, how well concealed behind the thickest of walls constructed of lies.

"With the tiniest of drops, dull eyes will shine again and the deepest fatigue will be swept away by the energetic winds brought to your body by a mixture of the most unspectacular ingredients, combined to create pure life.

"With the most delicate fluid power a potion can even tame the savage beast that lures in you, waiting impatiently for the next possibility to break loose. It can shackle the wolf to the very back of your mind, freeing you from the frightening dangers its sharp fangs pose, loosening the ailing hold it has on you," Severus finished, his eyes meeting the werewolf's whose stare had become quite unfathomable when he had mentioned the Wolfsbane Potion, red lips slightly parted, fingers rolling the phial back and forth in his deft hands.

There was a few moments' silence until Lupin set down the phial beside the others again, carefully and neatly. When he turned to Severus again with a raised eyebrow and a vague smile, resting his hand on the wooden table he looked as if he had just received a gift from Severus. "You are a poet, Severus," he said quietly, the firelight reflected by his golden orbs. "When you talk about potions, it sounds like poetry, and you display your extraordinary and effortless skill at using words. It is impressing. I love listening to you. I wonder why you cannot fascinate your students, since you have definitely fascinated me."

Severus didn't know what to say. He didn't usually get so many compliments at once. Not that he'd care, but when Lupin said it, it seemed to matter. It was special. And he felt proud. Had he really said he loved listening to Severus? Maybe he wasn't quite as unfortunate as he'd thought.

"As I said, the beauty of potions is not visible to everyone. But there are some who can make it out when shown how to see it," he said finally and walked over to his storage chamber, opening the door and reaching to his left, taking out a small phial with a yellow potion in it. When he approached Lupin again he beckoned him closer and removed the stopper, dripping some of the potion onto the table.

He enjoyed the soft noises of awe Lupin made, bending down to have a better look, when the potion hit the wood and fume rose from it in all possible colours and the shapes of butterflies and birds and flowers, finally exploding in a little firework. Severus watched the werewolf's face light up in a boyish delight that made his eyes sparkle, and his brow creased when he noticed that a satisfied smile was creeping onto his face. A smile, not a smirk. He quickly banned it from his features when the other turned round to beam at him.

"I wouldn't have expected you to have such a potion!" he said and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Such knickknack is usually not found in my stores, the potion has a function, other than delighting Gryffindors, such as yourself," he replied coolly and took the freshly brewed potion and the one from his storage back to the shelves in the chamber. "As it happens, quite ironically, it is a strong poison, so beware."

Lupin chuckled and Severus was relieved despite himself that he had not offended the other. That he was still granted the sound of his husky chuckle, caressing his eardrums, and bestowed by another smile on his red lips that made Severus's head light. Lupin's honey hair was shimmering in the torchlight matching his golden eyes perfectly as if on fire, framing the mellow, pale skin of his too tired face. Severus noticed a faint scar on the werewolf's chin that reminded him of the beast that lived in the thin frame, and it seemed so unreal to him that this man transformed into a savage wolf once a month.

"Sometimes the most beautiful of things tend to kill us…" he muttered and Lupin gave him a curious look.

"I didn't come to dinner because I wanted to get all the work done that I need for tomorrow. Actually I wanted to ask you for a cup of tea in your rooms, but this was just as nice," Lupin said quietly and made for the door of the lab slowly. Severus watched him, taking in the grace in every step he took. At the door he turned and gave Severus a smile that would almost have made his knees give way, had he not been able to steady himself on the table.

"Thank you for letting me watch. I see you tomorrow then. Good night," he said warmly and left, closing the door behind himself. Severus stared at the place where his face had been a few seconds before and wished he'd been able to ask him to stay. Without him there, the dungeon was even colder and emptier than before.

As Severus cleaned up his ingredients and the cauldron and put out the fire, he tried to picture Lupin standing there, opposite him. Maybe Severus's words about potions sounded like poetry to him, but Lupin himself was personified poetry. Fair and graceful, ailed by the darkest of horrors but full of warmth and comfort for others, even those who didn't deserve it. His knowing eyes, like clear lakes without bottoms, their surfaces showing every stirring, every movement in their unending depths. His lips like unlocked gates, behind which there lay all possible ways of expressing feelings, thoughts and everything that was worth being expressed. Severus could have found many more poetic words to describe him, so fascinated was he with the werewolf, so captured was his mind. There was no way of letting go of him.

When the Potions master retired to his rooms, he lit the fireplace again, in vain, though, since the still so clear memory of the werewolf's warmth could not be compared to. He heaved a sigh and slumped down on his sofa. He would never be able to utter the words he formed in his mind and hoped that maybe one day Lupin would read them in his black eyes. He wasn't a poet. He couldn't even describe his own feelings, was completely helpless when it came to relationships. He couldn't find flowery expressions for his troubles and he didn't feel better after voicing them in any of his clumsy ways.

But he did feel better when Lupin voiced them, when he found words for Severus's thoughts and feelings. He felt calm and satisfied when Lupin was present and it soothed him when the other spoke. It seemed as if Lupin knew the exact words and behaviour that were needed in a specific situation. His whole presence was aesthetic, was healing, was pleasant. And Severus felt as if he were listened to and understood, as if the things he told the other were meaningful not only to himself but to the werewolf as well, as if he were incapable of saying anything meaningless at all, as if he were appreciated.

He was indeed a worthy confidant, the first person in years and years that Severus judged as worthy enough to entrust him with the things that mattered to him, leaving no room in their conversations for unimportant small talk. Lupin relieved him of his pain and gave him the feeling that he was worth more than he believed, lightening the weight on his mind. And all he had to give in return was coldness and snide remarks.

No, Severus was no poet. But Remus Lupin was poetry.


	11. Tea

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Warnings: H&C. Some Fluff.

Author Notes: Okay, first off I wanted to say thank you for all those awesome comments, I really don't know what to say :D. It's extraordinarily motivating! I'm happy about every new one and I read them all with delight :), thank you so much (of course criticism is welcome, too). Now to the chapter, I just wanted to say that tea is not my area of expertise but I did some research. Hope everything's all right and you'll like it. Enjoy.

**Tea**

Severus had made up his mind. Tonight he would pay Lupin a visit. It had taken him a while to make that decision, walking back and forth between the fireplace and the door in his rooms, in the cold dungeon, weighing arguments against each other. The werewolf seemed to be reliable in terms of approaching Severus after a while, but then again, what if he thought Severus had lost interest? Or what if he lost interest in Severus if he didn't show some more initiative? Apart from that another day had passed in which they hadn't been able to talk and Severus was growing more and more impatient. In the end, his longing for the werewolf's warmth had won over his many concerns and now he was standing in Hogsmeade's best tea shop, in front of a large shelf, indecisive which brand he should buy.

"Ah, Professor Snape!" said a croaking voice behind him and he turned to see Mr Leaf, the shop owner, a little old man with grizzly grey hair, tiny eyes and a monocle, standing before him with a wide smile, rubbing his hands as if expecting Severus to spend a fortune on tea. "I haven't seen you in a while. Can I help you?"

Severus turned to the shelf again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes," he said slowly, deciding that he would never be able to choose the best one from the many types.

"Not your usual tea then? Will you try something new?" the shop owner asked and stepped closer to the shelf, peering up at Severus.

"It is a…" Severus hesitated before continuing, "a gift. I am going to visit someone and I don't want to arrive with empty hands." He took a bag of tea out of the shelf and looked at it but put it back again. The shop owner nodded thoughtfully.

"Well then, do you know your friend's preferences?" he asked and Severus scowled at him at the word 'friend'. Lupin's preferences? If he knew those it would make everything easier, not only concerning the choice of tea.

"Well, he likes his tea sweet and mild, I guess," he said remembering the taste of the teabags and the many cubes of sugar the werewolf had put into his cup. "But I think he prefers aromatic herbs or tea leaves over bitter types like earl grey, black tea in general or trivial ones like fruit tea. He seems to me like the type who enjoys his tea and drinks it slowly." Severus thought about Lupin's cup always being half full when his own was already empty and he was about to leave. "It can be expensive, the price doesn't matter, only the quality," he added, thinking of the dusty tin of teabags.

"Hum…" said the other man and with a swish of his wand he opened four drawers and let them hover over to Severus. He could see the tea leaves and herbs in them and smell their intense scent, they seemed very fresh, and very expensive.

"You have a trained nose, Professor, so have a smell," said the shop owner and with another wave of his wand he directed one of the drawers into Severus's hands. "Darjeeling, the champagne among teas. It's the Autumn Flush. Aromatic and spicy, yet delicate, and very fresh, too, just harvested."

Severus held the drawer up to his nose and let the scent invade him, closing his eyes. The muscatel smell was fresh and intense. "It can be drunk with sugar, but then you need to let it boil a little longer," Leaf added and Severus let go of the drawer to let it hover back to the others.

"Longjing, a Chinese tea, is gentle and sweet, as is the Japanese Gyokuro, a very delicate high quality tea," the shop owner continued, showing both drawers to the Potions master. "Then there is white tea, Silver Needle, the mildest of tea types with a light and sweet flavour, it has less caffeine than other tea types. It is good for your health, too. All of them are of the finest quality of course!" Severus looked into the drawer at the whitish leaves. Silver Needle. He raised his eyebrows. It was so fitting. But he was indecisive. They all fit. He decided to take the Darjeeling for its intense taste and the white tea for its sweet one. Severus took out the bag in which he kept his gold and said, "I take some of the Darjeeling and the – you called it Silver Needle?"

The shop owner grinned happily, rubbing his hands once again (the man could really try and hide his greed for profit!), waving his wand at the drawers so that the two he didn't need any more flew back to their places and the others hovered after him into the backroom. "Just a moment, please," he called and Severus made his way to the counter at the entrance. When the old man came back with two golden tins, putting them in a bag and taking the gold from Severus, he told him that he had put a card with instructions for the tea's preparation into each tin, wishing him "a nice day, Professor", when Severus exited the shop.

Severus glanced into the bag. The first step was taken, now he only had to walk up the stairs to Lupin's office in the evening, knock on his door and give him the tea. That would already start a conversation, no doubt! No reason to get nervous about it. It was just a normal meeting for a cup of tea. One like those he'd had with Albus a million times before. Just that this time he was bringing a _gift_, and his company wasn't his old, white-bearded, eye-twinkling, unnerving boss. It was Remus Lupin, handsome and tempting. And many other things.

He was so lost in thought, trying to stop his stomach from feeling so annoyingly fuzzy, that he ran straight into Minerva McGonagall, almost knocking her over. "Severus!" she cried, straightening her hat. He slipped the tea into his robes and nodded at her with a look that he knew she would recognise as apologetic. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping ingredients," he said curtly.

"Ah, I see," she muttered with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. "Well, then I'll see you in the castle." She turned and walked off into the direction of Honey Dukes and Severus felt for the tea in his pocket.

While he was walking back up the street towards the castle, he passed the Dementors who were gliding along the tall gates which led into the grounds. He hated passing them. It was pure torture. He felt dreadful every time he got close to them, even more dreadful than he usually felt. Full of guilt, disappointment, bitterness, fear and despair, he had to force himself to keep going, step by step, instead of crawling under the next best bush, hugging himself, freezing, waiting for death's black darkness to finally engulf him. What was it really worth, this miserable, lonely life of his? Just keep setting one foot before the other, Snape!, he thought, squinting up at the castle, the sunlight blinding him.

Those rotten creatures were mocking him, feasting by the dozens on his tiny amount of happiness, greedily ripping it into pieces, taking even those few good memories from him that he had locked away safely. He didn't have many of them, so he kept the key hidden; but they just broke the lock and yanked the happiness from his weak hands. In Azkaban he wouldn't last very long, he was sure. He would wither away in days, being shown his father's furious beating, his tormentors' merciless bullying, his very own unforgivably evil acts over and over again.

When he made his way up the path into the grounds his feet grew heavier and heavier, his mind darker and darker, and laughter appeared in his head growing louder, until he could barely find the will to stand anymore, he felt so empty. He should have flooed. Should have asked Hagrid for a carriage. Should have done something to avoid passing those terrible demons, sucking the life out of him. Why had he been at Hogsmeade at all? What was the reason for going back to the castle, where he'd be alone again, where nobody liked him and he hated everyone, where everybody laughed at him? Why not just fall to the ground here and forget everything?

His body kept walking on its own accord, his mind drifting through the darkness the Dementors left in him, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the grounds, up the castle's walls and over the many windows until… He stopped walking when he caught sight of a window a few floors above the gates to the Entrance Hall, his hand wandering into his robes, touching the tins he had just bought. That was the reason. That was why he was going back. He marched on, finally, finally leaving the Dementors behind, shaking off their cold grip on his mind, regaining his strength. He wouldn't collapse on the grass, not in front of his window! And after all, Severus still had to bring the werewolf his tea. That was something he could look forward to. When he left the cold behind him, staring up to the other wizard's window, he was almost sure that he had seen the gleam of his golden eyes behind the glass.

When he arrived in the dungeons he pulled the bag with tea out of his robes and set the two tins down onto the table. He would keep the Darjeeling in his own rooms, just in case the werewolf visited him. Should he put a ribbon on the other ti– No!, he thought firmly. He was not yet that demented. He would certainly not put a ribbon on the bloody tin! Nothing doing! Severus had already exceeded his own expectations by even buying a gift. It would be simply humiliating if he made it so ridiculously obvious that it was meant as a gift.

He was distracted during the double Potions lesson with the fifth year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, paying no attention to the students' cauldrons, which was possibly the reason why one melted, burning a black hole into the table in the third row. Severus took twenty points from Hufflepuff for it quite gleefully. He was in a rather good mood, thinking he might meet Lupin at dinner and ask him if he had time for a cup of tea. But again the werewolf was not there and Severus wondered if he could handle the work at all. But then again he was interested how the look of – hopefully pleasant – surprise would suit him.

Directly after dinner Severus made his way up the stairs to Lupin's office, his hand clutching the golden tin in his pocket. When he arrived at the door, he glanced around him to make sure that nobody was watching, then he knocked three times, as usual.

"Come in, Severus," Lupin's hoarse voice called and Severus was taken aback for a second before he opened the door to the sight of the werewolf carrying a few boxes in his arms, smiling brightly, a faint flush on his cheeks. Severus stepped over the threshold, closing the door. Lupin put down the boxes on one of the shelves that were lining the walls. "It is nice that you visit me. I've missed dinner again, haven't I? So much work to do. I really have to get used to having a full timetable." He laughed softly.

Severus hesitated for a second, then he pulled the tea out of his pocket and held it out to Lupin. "I thought you might have use for it," he explained when Lupin's eyes widened in surprise, making him look like the boy he had used to be. It suited him well. The werewolf took the golden tin from Severus's hand, his smile widening.

"Thank you so much Severus. That wouldn't have been necessary," he said, taking off the lid and sniffing the contents. "I know," Severus said and bit his tongue. He had again said something rude although he didn't mean it that way at all. But Lupin just chuckled, obviously recognising the true intention of those words and realising the depths of such a gesture.

"Oh, is that from Leaf's Leaves in Hogsmeade?" he asked and Severus nodded, amused by the sight of Lupin's eyes growing bigger and bigger. "But that must have cost you a fortune!" Severus waved his hand as if to wipe away the topic. "I hope you enjoy it," he said and his stomach made a jolt when he saw Lupin's eyes shine with delight. "Let's test it, shall we?" the Gryffindor said and beckoned Severus into his rooms, through the hidden door in the wall.

Lupin pointed to the sofa and Severus sat down, crossing his legs, glancing around the sitting room. Still, the walls were naked except for the Gryffindor flag and the book shelves, Lupin seemed to spend most of his time in his office, too. It seemed to Severus as if he didn't want to make himself at home. The werewolf produced two cups and a kettle out of nowhere, with the card of instructions in his hand, reading it carefully.

"I've never drunk white tea," he said cheerfully and tapped the kettle with his wand, making it whistle. "Could never afford it…" He smiled sheepishly at the spoon he ladled tea into the pot with. Severus felt satisfied somehow at the sight of Lupin's happy face. It had been a good idea, and a good choice.

Lupin handed him a steaming cup, sitting down opposite him on the threadbare armchair. They nipped on the tea at the same time and Severus ogled Lupin over the rim of his cup, tasting the sweet tea, almost too sweet for himself, but judging by the werewolf's closed eyes and the slight smile on his moist lips, it was just right for him. He leant back in the armchair, a relaxed expression on his face, his cheeks flushed slightly, and heaved a sigh, one that sent a pleasant shiver through Severus's body. "I've never before drunk such good tea…" he said and rolled the cup back and forth between his hands.

"At least it was worth its money," Severus muttered. "Glad you… enjoy it." Lupin looked at him with a slight frown.

"I do," he said softly and when Severus met his intent stare he thought he saw some deeper meaning to those two words. The werewolf took another sip from his cup, his amber eyes never leaving Severus's. "You passed the Dementors, didn't you?" he asked quietly and Severus looked out of the window at the gates where the rotten creatures lured. "Yes," he replied simply.

"The only good thing is, that Dumbledore won't let them into the grounds… I can barely take their presence," the werewolf mumbled. "What about you Severus?"

The Potions master raised an eyebrow. "Yes, indeed," he said coolly. "Every time I pass them, I feel nothing but despair. I always think that probably I'll never find a reason to let Potter be expelled and I'll have to bear him for the next five years. Terrible prospect." Lupin raised an eyebrow at him in a half-hearted attempt of scolding him.

"I'm sure Harry has similar thoughts about you, my dear Severus. And as far as I've heard, not quite without good reason." The Potions master liked the sound of 'my dear' when referring to him.

"Many do," he replied indifferently.

"And you don't care?"

"No."

Lupin cocked his head to one side and his golden eyes bored into Severus's again. No, he didn't care. Actually. Well, not about the students anyway. He enjoyed being feared, respected. If the price was hatred, what of it? As long as Lupin didn't see his presence as a torture, everything was well. But that feeling he didn't want to miss anymore.

Suddenly another smile spread over Lupin's face and he turned away with a knowing look, keeping silent about whatever he had seen in the Potions master's black tunnels. Severus took a sip from his cup and let the sweet taste roll over his tongue slowly, watching Lupin take a sip of his own.

"So it's that bad?" he said in a very hoarse voice and cleared his throat. "When you pass them, I mean."

Severus stared for a moment, he really needed not say anything. Lupin always knew. Severus didn't answer, just took another sip of tea, staring at his black shoes.

"Another thing we share…" the werewolf mumbled and got up to look out of the window. "I guess we are close to understanding why Harry faints when they draw near. It is cruel to laugh about it." His right hand moved to his left side and he clutched it tightly, looking as if he were trying to tear it off. Severus narrowed his eyes. Maybe Lupin wouldn't show him the scar, but now he knew where to find it. The Potions master got up, emptying his cup and setting it down on the table. He walked over to position himself behind the werewolf, glancing over his shoulder at the iron gates.

"Do you remember that night at all?" he whispered and Lupin turned his head slightly.

"When the Dementors are close, I do. All of it. The shock, the fear, the pain, the feeling of almost dying. And then I wish I had died," the werewolf whispered in a shaky voice. "And I remember another night. Standing over their dead bodies. Hearing his laughter. Feeling as if my heart had been ripped from my chest," he stopped there and Severus heard him stifle a sob as he turned his face away. He lowered his head. Who was he to think that he was the only one suffering?

He felt a lump in his throat. And part of Lupin's woes had been his fault. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. There was a silence between them that was so full of unsaid words that it hurt Severus's ears. He wanted to break it, needed to break it. But what he wanted to say seemed unspeakable to him. And yet, he said it, his tongue loosened once again by the werewolf's presence.

"The guilt is almost unbearable," he said. "Those things I did while being a Death Eater... Always at the Dark Lord's service, always…" he hesitated, "I'm responsible for so many cruel acts. So many deaths…" he faltered. He couldn't say it after all, couldn't tell the werewolf the entire truth. He feared the consequences.

Lupin shook his head to silence him. He took the last sip from his cup and put it down on the windowsill, facing him. He didn't look angry or disgusted. He looked… pained.

"That is… terrible, Severus. I know that without your telling me. You needn't say any more. The guilt you feel shows that you regret it, that you know it was terrible, that you, unlike most Death Eaters, have a heart and a soul. We make mistakes in our lives whose consequences may haunt us for the rest of it, but I think to be able to overcome the bitterness, you must try and get over it. What you did was unforgivable. Yet I choose to forgive you. Can you forgive yourself?" he said quietly and Severus couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't forgive himself. He couldn't forgive anything. Why was Lupin so good at it? Severus didn't deserve it. And suddenly he wished he hadn't mentioned it. Had just let the silence stretch.

"I have made a mistake in the past, too, creating this distance between us, that will follow me forever," the werewolf continued and the Potions master appreciated the change of topic. Appreciated everything about the other's behaviour. Appreciated the way he _knew_.

"Maybe not… forever," he whispered, causing Lupin's eyes to shine a little. He stepped past him, sitting down in his armchair again, and patted the sofa to show Severus that he wanted him to sit down, too. After he had complied, they stared at each other for a little while until Lupin said, "After the full moon you said… I didn't quite understand. You fear me, after all, don't you? You didn't want me here."

Severus didn't answer at first. It was true. He feared the werewolf, after having encountered it eighteen years before. But not the human. The human, he craved for. Trust was something completely different, though. He took a deep breath.

"Mistrust and fear are not the same. The danger of a savage beast cannot be denied, but that doesn't mean the human who suffers from it should be feared or mistrusted. Most people don't realise that being a werewolf doesn't make you an evil person," he paused before adding, "The reason I didn't want you here had nothing to do with your being a werewolf."

Lupin's eyes were wide, incredulous. "I told you, I don't believe you to be a Dark Creature. You carry one inside yourself, that is all. You deserve all the chances that I get and only use reluctantly and ungratefully most of the time. They should be yours, not mine," Severus said, meaning every word, surprised by his own sincerity. Now, he could give the werewolf something in return. Lupin's eyes never left his. He was sitting on the very edge of his armchair, his knees almost touching Severus's, his posture somewhat stiff, as if expectant.

"Why… why do you tell me that?" he asked in his hoarse voice and Severus knew exactly right what to answer.

"I say it," he said firmly, his black eyes holding the golden stare, "because I think that it is true. And I think that it was necessary you heard it."

The gold was swimming then and Severus was surprised at how often he had seen it like that. He was just wondering if that was good or bad, when something strange, something startling happened and his heart skipped a beat. For a split second the Potions master thought the werewolf had come closer, had leant in to –

But no… that must have been his imagination. Wishful thinking maybe. But Lupin averted his eyes, rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin and a furrowed brow, blushing slightly. Could it be? The thought made his heart pound faster. He had never _really_ thought about anything like that, despite the feelings he had for Lupin, since he would never have thought that the other would want it. The werewolf's hand fidgeted a little as if he wanted to reach for Severus but didn't dare. He was still so close, almost, but not quite touching him. But Severus wanted him to touch him, wanted to feel his warm skin. He couldn't say it or do it himself, though, so he waited for the other to read it in his eyes, displaying the message in them as clearly as he could. But the golden orbs were directed at the floor, afraid possibly. And the moment was gone.

"Thank you, Severus. I thank you so much," Lupin said to the floor, sheepish grin still in place, a tear escaping through his eyelashes, dripping onto his knee. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"It's strange. We are affected by our bad fate, you said. Of you it made an amiable teacher, loved by all… of me, though…" Severus said, narrowing his eyes. He wanted the werewolf to look at him. And he succeeded.

"Amiable?" Lupin laughed, eyes void of tears again. "Well, thank you very much. But I think compared to you, even Minerva seems an amiable teacher." Yes, Severus thought, the moment was gone. If it had ever been there at all. His face darkened a little. As if Lupin wanted to – as if anyone did…

"I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't want to offend you…" Lupin said quietly, clasping his hands. Severus shook his head. "You're right. I don't have any illusions about my character. I don't have a problem with it."

The werewolf smiled a little and reached for the tin of tea. He looked at it for a long time. "I hope Harry doesn't go looking for Sirius," he muttered. "Is he really that much of a hero? I mean does he really always get into trouble because he wants to?"

Severus snorted. "He is ungrateful. Thinks he is a great wizard after two years of school. He would never come up with the idea that he causes himself and others more trouble by his heroic missions than by waiting for help. All the efforts we make to protect him are in vain, he doesn't appreciate them at all."

Lupin's eyes narrowed. "I am not exaggerating!" Severus added crossly.

The other smiled. "He doesn't seem like that to me…"

"Not yet…" Severus growled. "He is extraordinarily like his father."

The werewolf chuckled huskily and Severus wished he would never stop. The fireplace was empty but still it was warm beside Lupin. Severus looked at their knees, not even an inch apart. He wondered if he should move his leg just a little to the left as if accidentally, like he had done with his hand the other day. He would feel the other's warmth stream into himself. Should he dare?

He didn't. Because Lupin did it first. Severus wasn't sure if it had been intentional but he was glad he had done it. It was a short contact but its effect was enormous. Heat shot through Severus's body and at the same time he could barely conceal his shiver. It felt oddly intimate. Lupin moved his leg away, reaching for his wand on the table to set fire in the grate and the heat vanished from Severus's body at once, leaving his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

"Will you stay a little longer? I'll make another cup of that delicious tea," Lupin said, turning towards him with one of those sweet smiles and all Severus could answer was, "Why not." The tea had been a good idea.

After the sun had set and another half hour had been spent in pleasant silence Severus made his way down into the dungeons through the dark corridors, the Silver Needle still on his tongue, wondering how it might have been, how sweet it would have tasted if Lupin had... if they had kissed.


	12. Steps

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Steps**

Severus was watching him. He took pleasure in watching him. Studying him. Tracing his every outline with his eyes, memorising the soft curve of his jaw, the pale crook of his neck, his delicate fingers. Already when Lupin had entered the Great Hall with a yawn, late for breakfast as usual, Severus's eyes had followed his every step, his every graceful movement. Walking to his seat at the High Table, slowly and sleepily, his patched robes hanging loosely around his shoulders, Lupin had moved with such an extraordinary grace, that it had chained Severus's eyes to him with no chance of escape.

Lupin never looked up but Severus was sure he noticed his eyes on him. Once in a while the werewolf would rub his neck, and the sheepish smile would creep onto his face, making Severus's heart pound faster.

He couldn't stop thinking about the night before. After having returned to his quarters he had lain awake in his bed for several hours until it had been well past three o'clock in the morning, until the sweet taste of the tea had disappeared from his tongue. He had wondered whether Lupin had really wanted to kiss him. And if yes, then why hadn't he done it? And if he had, how would it have been?

In the end he had come to the conclusion that he should give up hope and stop imagining things that would never happen. He was tired of disappointments. Probably he had just mistaken a coincidental movement for something intentional. And still there was the doubt. The possibility. The hope. It was the hope that annoyed Severus most. It was a treacherous friend. It made the disappointment harder. Lessened the joy. Though he'd be grateful for any amount of joy. Even if it wasn't his own, but Lupin's

The effect that the supposed almost-kiss had had on Severus was wondrous. Suddenly he had those thoughts, daydreams even, of the werewolf kissing him, being as close to him as the day before when their knees had touched, sharing his warmth with him. And usually the thoughts stopped abruptly when Severus saw his own reflection in a mirror, a window, or the surface of a potion. Already that morning he had been violently disillusioned by the mirror in his bathroom, splashing water into his face to chase away the memory of the dream he had awoken from just a little too early. His cold, black and expressionless eyes had stared back at him and he had scowled at his own image. Large, hooked nose, lanky hair, sallow, white skin, his features grim, unfriendly, not to speak of his foul mouth, which the mirror couldn't show him, fortunately. As if Lupin would ever see anything in him. It had definitely been wishful thinking.

Still, there was that new smile, as if it were awkward for Lupin to have Severus's stare on him. The Potions master didn't know what to think anymore. It was all too much for him to handle. Besides, such hopes and dreams were foolish. Were out of place in his mind. Finally he managed to tear his eyes away from the werewolf, deciding that it didn't help him clear his mind if he stared at the other's lips. He got up, leaving his unfinished toast behind, choosing to go for a walk in the grounds. Fresh air might be helpful to free his mind from those troubling thoughts.

When Severus was passing the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he saw Hagrid at the door of his hut, picking up a branch for Fang to fetch, throwing it into Severus's direction. The Potions master ducked out of the way when the piece of wood sped towards him and looked after it, watching it crash into a tree which swayed slightly at the collision. He didn't turn in time to see Fang galloping towards him, running into him and knocking him over.

Hagrid shouted at Fang while he ran towards Severus, who had fallen onto the ground, pressing a hand to his aching back where Fang had hit him.

"Pr'fessor Snape, sir, 'm sorry," the half-giant panted, lifting Severus up by his arms before he could protest. "St'pid dog! 'M tr'ly sorry, sir."

Severus looked down at himself. His robes were smeared with soil all over and he was sure he looked as if he had been in a fight with an especially nasty Niffler. He held his dirty hands up, shaking his head. Hopefully nobody had seen that.

"'ll help yeh clean this up!" Hagrid muttered, pulling a giant handkerchief out of his pocket but Severus whipped out his wand quickly.

"No need, Hagrid. I can do this by myself," he said coolly and with a swish of his wand his robes were dirt-free again.

"Sorry again, Pr'fessor," Hagrid mumbled and Severus couldn't help but notice his uncharacteristic worry.

"It is fine," he replied and was about to leave when Hagrid said, "Yeh know Lucius Malfoy, don' yeh, sir?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at him. "Yes," he said slowly.

"Whaddeyeh think he'll do? 'Cause o' his son?" Hagrid asked in a fearful voice.

Severus met his beady eyes with his own cold stare. "The worst he can. That's what he does best," he said truthfully and felt sincerely sorry for the half-giant, who hung his head desperately.

"Couldn' yeh talk ter him?" he almost pleaded.

Fang prodded his nose into Severus's side demanding a pat but the Potions master just shook his head at them both. "I'm afraid he won't listen to me, Hagrid."

He turned then, and made his way back to the castle where there were no huge dogs who could throw him over and no half-giants who would leave him with a bad conscience.

But there were werewolves who would bring back the moment to his mind. The moment of peaceful silence, shared after a full moon, the moment of battling desire and fear, the moment of touching fingers and touching souls and the moment in which the other had – or had not – leant in to kiss him. And now Lupin was walking towards him through the Entrance Hall and Severus didn't notice at all how he straightened his back, trying to make himself taller to look more impressive to the other man.

"Good morning, Severus," Lupin said with a smile, stopping beside him. Severus just nodded. "Is there something you wanted to discuss with me?"

The Potions master looked at him in confusion. "What gives you the idea?"

The werewolf shrugged. "You were looking at me, weren't you? I thought there might be a reason for it."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "It would be far more interesting to learn why you didn't look up when you noticed me looking at you," he said silkily trying to make Lupin reveal what he was hiding behind that sheepish smile of his. The other didn't answer, just rubbed his neck again. It was so curious.

"You are hurt, aren't you?" Lupin said quietly, stepping closer to him, laying his hand on Severus's back quite unexpectedly. The touch made him feel hot and his heart pounded faster again. He hoped Lupin's hand would stay there forever but he tried not to show it in his face. The aching ceased as if absorbed by the other's hand.

Looking down at the werewolf's concerned face Severus felt a strong urge to run his fingers along the faint scar on his jaw, raising his hand. But before he had even lifted it past his waist he stopped dead, seeing his own reflection in those beautifully golden eyes. As if Lupin would want to touch him like that, as if he would want to be touched by him. Coincidences and wrong interpretations had misled him, had made him hope for something that just couldn't be there. He grew angry at the thought. Friendship was all he could expect, nothing more. He'd be a fool to think that Remus Lupin would want him like Severus wanted him.

In his anger he batted the other's hand away with a hissed "Don't!" making him flinch and leaving him behind when he strode towards the dungeons. His conscience was getting heavier still.

For the rest of the day Severus avoided Lupin, which was a huge step backwards. He turned on his heel whenever he saw him, ignoring his calls, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his lips together. He didn't want to ignore him but somehow he had the feeling that he had really hurt the other this time and he wasn't up to facing him; he was feeling ashamed. And now he had probably lost all the chances that might have been there to receive even more intimacy from the werewolf. And he needed that intimacy so much, now that he'd felt it.

The spot where Fang had rammed and Lupin had touched him was throbbing painfully. As if to punish him for his insensitive behaviour and his enormous stupidity. He had known that he would spoil it. After his anger had ceased Severus had wondered whether so many coincidences were even possible, Lupin's search for closeness for example, the touching of fingers now and then, the contact of their knees, the hand on his back. Then he thought that probably Lupin was just the type for that sort of affection, that it didn't have anything to do with himself at all. But had he ever touched anyone else? Minerva or Flitwick? Severus couldn't recall that he had. He ended up seizing fistfuls of his hair in frustration and helplessness. The easiest way would have been to just ask him, but Severus didn't have the bravery to do so. And what should he say, anyway? He didn't have any words. Legilimency was a possibility… but that would be wrong. He could barely believe that he cared about that, but he did, so he couldn't intrude into the other's mind by force either. His situation was desperate.

And now in the middle of the night, when normal people were asleep, Severus, who was in an extraordinarily bad mood, had to patrol the corridors to make sure that no student was out of bed after curfew. Severus dearly hoped for someone to bully at the moment and then, suddenly, he heard a noise. It had come from the top of the hidden staircase that he had just passed, so he swiftly slipped past the tapestry into the staircase and peered through the darkness, wand at the ready. Then he saw a tall thin form at the top of the stairs making its way down towards Severus who proceeded a few steps up skipping the one that vanished when treaded.

"Stop!" Severus snapped and lifted his wand. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The form stopped and then very suddenly started down the stairs again much faster than before.

"I said stop!" Severus repeated more loudly this time and held the light of his wand into the other's face. It was Lupin.

"Severus?" the werewolf asked never slowing his pace and Severus took a step backwards to prevent a collision; just as his brain had sent the order to move to his foot he realised that the next step was the vanishing one and tried to hop over it waving his arms wildly. But it was too late. Severus tumbled backwards and his leg sank into the stairs. He was stuck.

Severus moaned. Did this have to happen in front of the werewolf of all people? The one person in front of whom he didn't want to look ridiculous. Fortune was obviously not very fond of him today.

"Severus!" Lupin exclaimed hurrying to his side and crouching down to be on eyelevel with him. "Are you alright?" he asked with obvious worry and Severus rolled his eyes.

"Do I _look_ alright, Lupin?" he snarled, angry more at himself than at the werewolf, struggling to free himself from this awkward situation. When he realised it was in vain he looked darkly at Lupin who simply sat there and stared at Severus with a frown. "Would you care to help me out of here?" Severus growled and tried not to show the pain in his leg on his face.

"Sure…" Lupin answered but didn't move even one inch.

Severus grew impatient. "Now? Or shall I stay here like this all night?"

Lupin snapped out of what seemed to have been some kind of trance and shook his head. "No, not all night. Maybe just a few more minutes," he said and Severus looked at him in confusion. "You see I just noticed how handy this step is: since it's holding you captive, you cannot run from me and have to listen."

So now was the moment Severus had dreaded. The moment when Lupin told him how very disappointed he was in him and that he regretted ever having believed that they could become –

"I'm sorry," the werewolf interrupted his thoughts, startling him thoroughly. Why in Merlin's name was he apologising? "If I did anything wrong, anything that might have angered you, then I apologise and I hope that we can just forget about it because I still have so much of that tea left."

Severus stared. He felt awful suddenly, being apologised to although he had been the one hurting Lupin. "Why on earth do you think you've angered me?" he asked incredulously and Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"I… don't know. I thought maybe you didn't like my touching you," he replied in an uncertain voice.

Severus shook his head. "It was not you who angered me."

Lupin sighed in relief and it seemed to Severus that he had been worrying a great deal about the matter. The Potions master really wasn't very skilled at making interpersonal relationships work.

"Then you will share that tea with me? Somehow I don't want to drink it when I'm alone. It's much more enjoyable when you are there," Lupin said quietly and a blush crept onto his face. Severus considered him for a long moment, barely trusting his ears. Enjoyable.

"Why aren't you angry with me?" he asked and Lupin smiled his sweet smile.

"You are difficult, Severus. If I got angry at you every time you behaved like today, I wouldn't be able to live peacefully," he answered with a husky chuckle and Severus felt his stomach grow fuzzy again. "I'll try to understand why you did it, though."

Severus looked away to prevent the other from searching his eyes for the answer. "It is… not important," he said in a voice that gave away his lie so clearly that he wished he could kick himself. Lying to the Gryffindor seemed to become impossible.

"I see," Lupin said and Severus looked at him again taking in the sight of him. His delicate features disturbed only by the several scars on his milky-white skin, and the thin, small frame, covered by the old and torn robes, his honey hair, falling into his face, glowing. In the dim light of Severus's wand Lupin looked rather peaceful and his eyes had that warm shine about them, like fluid caramel. He looked truly beautiful. Severus couldn't believe his own thoughts.

"You want to continue this… relationship, then?" Severus asked, careful not to sound too desperate.

"Relationship?" the other smiled and raised his eyebrows, looking as though he was happy about the term he had used to describe the connection between them.

"Well, yes, I looked it up," Severus said with as much sarcasm in his voice as he could manage while speaking the absolute truth. "A relationship is defined by frequent interactions, emotional attachment and a state of being connected. Which applies to us, if I am not very much mistaken."

The impact of those words was ridiculously strong. Lupin's eyes had widened to an extent that it made Severus wonder when they'd fall out and the werewolf looked as if Severus had just told him that he had found a potion to cure Lycanthropy. "Emotional attachment?" he asked softly, as if he would wake himself from a very nice dream if he said it too loudly.

"Merlin! Don't cling to every word!" Severus growled, embarrassed to the bone. But Lupin just beamed at him. Obviously he had looked into his eyes for too long a moment; how was he going to get out of this? But the beam suited Lupin. At least he wasn't worried anymore.

"I thought you didn't want me as a friend," the werewolf muttered, putting on the sheepish grin again, but this time it pierced Severus's heart and the fuzzy feeling changed into a churning. All hope drained from him and he felt awfully miserable. Idiot, he scolded himself, you shouldn't have been hoping at all.

"You were right," Severus said and fixed his eyes on a pebble on the ground. "I don't want you as a friend." But if being your friend is what I have to do to be able to be with you, I will be it. If friendship is all I will receive from you, then I will take it with appreciation. But being without you is what I cannot endure. He wished he could say it, but he couldn't and he hoped Lupin knew.

But when he felt Lupin's hurt look on him he wanted to give up his efforts since he would never be able to make this work without the capability of opening his mouth. And probably it would be a torture for both of them. He struggled again to get out of his painful prison and this time Lupin seized his arm and tried to pull him up. It wasn't easy getting out of the trap due to his throbbing leg and the little possibilities to hold on to. An accident was guaranteed. Lupin slipped off the edge of the step he was standing on and with a yelp of pain he fell onto Severus whose leg went all the way back down into the vanished step, his wand clattering down the stairs. The Potions master stifled a cry as his head collided with the wall and he tried to fight his anger back down when he opened his mouth to tell Lupin how much of a clumsy idiot he was. But he never got to say it because the first thing he saw after looking up, was the werewolf lying on top of him with his face barely an inch away and his eyes shining through the darkness which now engulfed them with a strange light that Severus had never before seen in them.

Lupin was so close that Severus could feel his breath on his face and smell his scent all around him, chocolate and liquorice and the white tea. Severus inhaled this odour and almost closed his eyes in enjoyment. The warmth Lupin spread through his body was pleasant. When had it been? The last time he had been so close to someone? And could they compare to Lupin? Him being so close felt great and Severus almost forgot where they were, who they were, he just never wanted this moment to stop.

That qualified as _too_ close!

"Have you hurt yourself?" Severus asked and made an effort to sound especially unfriendly to conceal the pleasure. He failed.

"No," Lupin answered but didn't get up. He simply stared at Severus with an expression in his eyes that made him feel as if he were drawn to him like a fork to a magnet. He tried to look away but his eyes didn't comply so he held Lupin's stare which was so full of… he didn't really know what.

"Then, why don't you get off and we try again?" he said his voice much less firm than he would've liked it to be.

"I think it's fate…" Lupin said and brushed his delicate nose against Severus's large one making his heart beat quicken. The Slytherin didn't know if he had done it on purpose or not but he tensed immediately not sure what to feel. Frightened or pleased.

"Wh– what do you mean?" he stammered and could have slapped himself for it but he couldn't help it, he had no chance of succeeding in holding his voice steady. This was the intimacy he had wanted but now it was there it made him awfully nervous and uncertain, he was feeling terribly hot and his head was light and his stomach so fuzzy it almost churned. He couldn't think clearly.

"I mean… I wanted to do this, almost would have done it, but I was too afraid and now it is as if some power had thrown me on you. Isn't that what you call fate?"

That is what you call clumsiness!, Severus thought and was glad that his lips couldn't form the words to destroy the situation. He swallowed hard.

Severus felt Lupin's hands at either side of his head on the wall more than seeing them and the only thing he could make out in the dark were the other's bright eyes full of… but that couldn't be. Who would look at _him_ like that? And yet, some annoying spark of hope inside Severus made his heart pound even faster and he was sure Lupin could hear it by now, could smell his feelings with the senses of the wolf. If there really were such senses at all. Not even Severus could conceal the smell and the sound of his body's reactions which gave him away so treacherously. It annoyed him that he had no means of preventing Lupin from seeing through him like that now, and at the same time it strengthened the hope inside him. This wretched hope!

"Do thi-this? What?" Severus whispered and Lupin's quickened breath on his face drove him crazy.

Suddenly there was that warm smile in the werewolf's eyes that he had seen on the day when they had been fighting in his classroom, accompanied by that strange expression which was joined by determination.

"Please, don't reject me Severus," Lupin said. "I hope I've read you alright and 'this' is the correct conclusion."

Then Severus saw the amber eyes no more but felt a soft hand on his cheek and before he knew it the remaining gap between them had been closed and their lips brushed carefully, almost as if they were afraid, before they indulged in a deep, passionate but tender kiss, clinging to each other as if they were drowning.

Severus let himself fall into the sea of Remus's – yes, _Remus_'s – scent and the warmth radiating off him which felt so much like a shelter from the dark and cold staircase that he didn't even feel the icy stone steps and wall underneath him anymore.

As Remus's tongue licked at Severus's bottom lip he forgot all the pain he was feeling, physical and emotional, and opened his mouth to Remus's taste of chocolate and tea, and was that shortbread?

Severus's hands found their way into Remus's soft hair – it was even softer than it had looked from afar – and his fingers entangled themselves in the strands, pulling the other man even closer. He forgot to feel embarrassed of his situation and ashamed of his lacking skill or the pungent smell of today's potions on every inch of his body. The kiss was so special that Severus doubted that he'd ever kissed anyone quite like this. No, he was sure he hadn't. His heart grew so warm that it felt as if it were burning in his chest and it pounded so fast that Severus was sure it would explode. Everything around them had disappeared and it was as if time had stopped.

Severus feared the moment when they would be out of breath and hoped for it never to arrive. But it did, and when Remus broke the kiss he took all the warmth and pleasure with him and Severus was left cold and in pain and longing to touch the werewolf again. It was frustrating. Severus thought about pulling the Gryffindor close again but didn't and instead waited for his reaction, and for himself to wake from this blissful dream.

Though Remus was still close it wasn't the same. Severus wanted the warmth back and the scent and the taste. He wanted to escape from this desolate hallway and his awkward situation once more. As he heard Remus pant rather than feeling it, though, he wondered whether the other already regretted having kissed him or if he just didn't know what to do next.

Then the golden eyes appeared again, darker this time. A hand caressed Severus's cheek and there it was again, the smile in Remus's eyes, and it made Severus let out the breath that he hadn't even noticed he was holding. So he didn't regret it, after all. But still there was this distance between them and Severus felt himself grow colder by the minute.

"So…" Remus whispered, "you… didn't complain. Was it okay?"

Severus snorted more relieved than amused. "Yes, obviously," he replied breathlessly. He wanted to grasp the other's warmth with his fingers but couldn't and he felt colder still. He had never noticed how cold he really felt. The other's close presence was agonising; Severus felt everything nearby that he wanted to be enveloped in but couldn't, wouldn't force Remus to give to him.

"I… haven't kissed anyone in a while," said Remus with a little embarrassment in his voice.

"I didn't notice," Severus mumbled and it earned him an extremely husky chuckle. Why didn't Lupin just kiss him again? Why didn't Severus just lean in? Show him that he wanted more?

But it was too late, Remus pushed himself off the wall and got up, was gone. Severus sighed. When Remus held out his hand to pull him out of the step he became very aware of the pain in his leg again. He reached for Remus's forearm but let his fingers slide down to firmly grasp Remus's hand instead and this time they succeeded in freeing him from his miserable situation.

The Potions master rubbed his leg when he was standing beside Remus who had lit his wand and bent down to recover Severus's.

"Here you are," the Gryffindor said and handed it to him.

As Severus took it, their fingers touched and he looked up into those golden eyes and again his senses were full of Remus and Remus only. His knees grew wobbly and he staggered a little, blaming it on his stinging leg. Remus's arm was round his waist immediately to steady him and Severus felt the sudden urge to kiss him again but he was afraid to give in to it, though the other's lips looked so seductively red from their kiss.

"Better be careful, Severus. Otherwise you'll fall down the stairs," Remus said quietly, eyes never leaving Severus's. "Maybe I should bring you to the Hospital Wing?"

Severus shook his head. He didn't want to break the contact again, even if that meant staying in this staircase forever. How ridiculously sentimental, he thought, but just for now he didn't care.

"It's not so bad. I'll live." He let his fingers ghost over Remus's neck and jaw, finally tracing the faint scar, making the werewolf close his eyes in a gesture of enjoyment. "Stupid, something like this happening to me," he whispered, not quite sure if he meant falling into the step or his feelings for the other man. Not only feelings of physical attraction, much deeper than that. How very Gryffindor of you, Snape, he thought.

"I'm glad it happened," Remus replied looking up at him with a hint of the old mischief in his eyes.

"I bet you are. What if that had happened to you?"

"Then I'd still be stuck…"

"That might be true."

Remus smiled warmly, raised the hand he had laid round Severus's waist and pressed it to the Potions master's chest, over his heart which was still pounding fast. Severus closed his eyes, his heart beat slowing down. The werewolf slid his hand down his chest, then he laid it into the nape of his neck, beneath his long black hair, stepping closer until their bodies were pressed up against each other and this time there was no doubt about the fact that he was leaning in to –

But suddenly there were footsteps on the floor Severus had come from and the two men started, quickly stepping away from each other, raising their wands. Severus swore to himself that he'd hex the person the feet belonged to into the next week if he could lay his hands on them. But the footsteps passed the tapestry and disappeared. Severus glanced at the werewolf whose golden eyes were shining up at him, full of regret.

"We'd better resume our patrolling, Severus," he whispered and Severus nodded, though he'd rather have neglected that duty in favour of only one more kiss. Remus stepped closer again, resting his hand on Severus's shoulder, pressing his soft lips against his cheek. They left a warm tingling sensation behind when Remus withdrew to smile sheepishly at him. "Good night," he said and made his way up the stairs. Severus watched him leave until he could see him no more. Suddenly he was freezing and wrapped his robes more tightly around his body.

While he was wandering through the corridors, the moonlight falling through the windows, he touched his lips over and over again, remembering the sensation. They had really kissed, hadn't they? It was miraculous. He stopped at one of the windows, leaning against the wall, a smile spreading over his face. Joy was all he felt right now. Joy and the shadow of Remus's lips. All thanks to the steps.


	13. Yearning

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Yearning**

Severus opened his eyes, squinting in the sunlight. It was Sunday and a look at the clock told him that he had slept much longer than usual. It was almost noon. He stretched his arms over his head and groaned. Such a sweet dream. Severus let his arms fall onto the mattress on either side of him, heaving a sigh. Such a sweet kiss. He shifted slightly and suddenly a throbbing pain shot through his leg and up his back into his head. He hissed and clutched his thigh, sitting up. His eyes widened and he stared at his leg. Not a dream then? It had been real? He still couldn't believe it.

The Potions master touched his lips and closed his eyes, remembering the sensation he had had when Remus had kissed him. He couldn't recall ever having felt that good. Goose bumps spread over his skin and Severus smiled slightly, throwing the covers from him and hopping out of bed. His leg stung, his head ached and his back hadn't got any better either but that couldn't influence his mood, the best mood in years, decades maybe. The bruises had been worth it!

He took a shower and strolled into the Great Hall which was almost empty except for a handful of students and two teachers, McGonagall and Lupin. He was really late for breakfast. When he approached his seat at the High Table, McGonagall waved at him.

"Severus, why don't you sit with us? It's nonsense to sit down over there," she said and after a little hesitation Severus complied.

Remus looked up from his scrambled eggs with a shy smile, apparently uncertain how to treat Severus after the kiss. "Good morning, Severus," he said cheerfully, though Severus heard the question in his voice. He nodded and met his eyes, sitting down next to McGonagall.

"We were wondering why you weren't at breakfast, Severus," McGonagall said and Severus saw Remus scratch his neck, staring at his food, in the corner of his eye.

"I overslept," Severus said curtly.

"Did you have an especially nice dream?" the witch asked with a wink at Remus who grinned sheepishly, a slight blush creeping into his pale cheeks, and Severus's mouth twitched. It hadn't been a dream, no, but it could easily have been the nicest he'd ever had.

"I hardly think my dreams are of your concern. I was patrolling last night."

"So was Remus," McGonagall said. Severus scowled at her, which was much harder while he wasn't in a grim mood.

"Well then, why don't we wonder why he was down so early?" he snapped to end the conversation.

"Did you meet last night?" the witch asked and Severus rolled his eyes.

"What gives you the idea?" Remus asked in a very innocent voice.

"You both limp somehow. I thought maybe you got into a fight and don't want to let Albus know…" she said and Severus snorted.

"If we had got into a fight one of us would be dead now," he said silkily.

"Probably me," Remus agreed, grinning.

"Probably," affirmed Severus and nodded. "You're too soft."

Remus chuckled pleasantly and finished his eggs. McGonagall stared from one to the other, a startled expression on her face. "You are scaring me," she said and made Remus laugh which again lifted Severus's mood.

"Well, I still have a lot of preparations to make for the next week," the werewolf said, getting up. "I wish you two a nice Sunday." With a wink at McGonagall and a sweet smile at Severus he left the Hall, indeed with a slight limp. The last night had obviously left its traces on both of them.

Severus wondered if he should pay the other a visit later in the day. He certainly wanted to. Another kiss of that quality would be pure bliss. The memory had already started to grow faint, his specific scent and his sweet taste, his body warmth seeping into Severus, his soft lips. Severus could still feel the tingling in his cheek where his lips had been but somehow it wasn't as clear as it had been when he had woken up. It was as if he were sensing it through a layer of fabric. He missed it already. And Remus seemed too busy for a visit. Severus himself had a lot of preparations to make for the next week, too, not having made them the day before, due to all the stress. He stabbed his egg with his fork, deeply in thought, when a hand appeared before his eyes, being waved up and down.

The Potions master snapped out of his thoughts and looked round at the Transfiguration Professor who smiled at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not used to seeing you absent-minded like this. That really must have been a nice dream," she said and got up, leaving him behind in the empty Hall. Yes. A blissful dream.

Severus's stomach felt fuzzier than ever and every time he thought about the night before a surge of some very pleasant but very strange emotion gripped his whole body, forcing him to smile. He shivered now and then when his mind drifted a few floors up to the werewolf. The Potions master had decided to visit him later but when minutes of work turned into hours and one o'clock turned into seven he was still not done with his preparations and the brewing of several potions which needed surveillance. His mood dropped gradually and after the sun had set and neither he nor Remus had visited each other Severus cleaned up his lab and retired to his rooms, worn and depressed.

The memory of the kiss had become even fainter and Severus wished for just one smell of the other's skin, one tiny little touch of his hand or one brush of his lips against his cheek, which would bring it back to him in vivid clarity. But no werewolf was to be seen and Severus doubted that he would show up so late in the evening, so he let himself fall onto his sofa with his obligatory glass of wine and, with a last try of resistance, gave in to the longing that presented him with pleasant memories of the feelings which the werewolf had let him experience. He didn't even notice when he drifted off to sleep since his dreams were very similar to his thoughts.

But those dreams remained the only pleasure he could indulge in for the next days since the week turned out to be very busy indeed. The infirmary demanded a list of all kinds of complicated and time intensive potions and pastes, the homework he had given his courses in every class had turned out so catastrophic that the Potions master was close to despair and to top it all off Severus's new so called Potions-N.E.W.T course had disappointed his expectations in their essays on the exact preparation, use and antidotes of Veritaserum and their brewing skills were less than satisfactory. So the Potions master had to scold them thoroughly, scaring them by saying that he'd throw three quarters of them out of his course if they didn't improve considerably, giving them another work-intensive essay on the love potion Armortentia and making them brew it under great time pressure. Only two of them were acceptable. But when their fumes filled the air and reached Severus's nose he was back in the hidden staircase again, as close to Remus as possible, breathing in his scent, chocolate, tea, licorice. He would almost have moaned, closing his eyes to the scent, hadn't the bell rung, bringing him back to the desolate reality of the lonely dungeon, full of the fumes of failed potions.

Severus's desire to talk to the werewolf grew steadily and it was agonising to see him at meals and to pass him in the corridors where he only received smiles which made his longing even worse. The staffroom was pure torture with Remus being so close with no opportunity to speak to him in private. On Wednesday when Severus was seated in the armchair by the fireplace, Remus bustled in, his hands full of papers he apparently had to grade and when he approached Severus and caught his eye he dropped them all, stumbling. The Slytherin shook his head at him with a smirk and waved his wand to sweep up the papers and place them onto the table in a neat stack.

"Clumsy, as ever, Lupin," he said sneering, leaning back in his armchair. He liked to imagine that he was the reason for the clumsiness of the usually deft and concentrated werewolf.

"Thank you, Severus," the werewolf panted and sat down on one of the old chairs at the table. "So much stress. I forgot to grade those. Or rather I nodded off over them." He chuckled huskily and Severus shivered again, closing his eyes.

"By the way. Up to now my clumsiness has never failed me," Remus whispered only for Severus to hear and the Potions master stared at his back, feeling the mischievous smile on the other's face. He didn't answer, though, just stared, remembering that yes indeed, the werewolf had felt soft and warm, not quite so fragile, but delicate, when he had been pressed up against him. Severus shook his head scolding himself for the one hundredth time since Saturday for the pathetically sappy thoughts he had. He obviously spent too much time with romantic dunderheads like Albus, McGonagall or, well, Remus. Luckily he had only dropped his papers and not fallen onto Severus, that would have ended in a scene that would have been difficult to explain to the other staff.

McGonagall entered the room to sit down beside Remus with a sigh, loosening her collar and complaining about the heat. To Severus it couldn't be warm enough; he shifted his hand as far to the right as he could without anyone noticing to feel the werewolf's warmth. He had grown addicted to the other much too fast.

The scratching of Remus's quill on the parchment was soothing and Severus closed his eyes to the sound, trying to relax so much that the memories would leave his mind in peace for a while. But suddenly the scratching stopped and Remus cleared his throat.

"Minerva…" he said quietly and the witch turned to him. "I always wanted to know how the animal an Animagus transforms into is chosen."

Severus turned his head to catch McGonagall's answer. "It isn't chosen. The witch or wizard turns into the animal which characterises them best. For example, a dog stands for loyalty, a lion for bravery and so on."

Remus stared at her for a few moments, his expression unfathomable, then he turned back to his papers slowly and Severus thought he saw him shake his head. Somehow he seemed very interested in Animagi…

When the bell rang to announce the start of the next lesson the werewolf gathered up his papers again and left, lost in thought and graceful as ever. Severus's eyes were glued to him and he sighed in frustration when the door closed behind him. He couldn't bear the forced silence between them.

But the silence stretched and as the days passed his mood dropped to a level which let his nastiness grow to an extent that made him unbearable to everyone around him. It was as if the werewolf were teasing him, passing him in every possible corridor, never meeting him alone, always with one of those sweet smiles on his face. Severus felt himself missing those immediately after he had lost sight of Remus and he was so distracted when working that he made countless mistakes and had to start a potion over and over again, cursing furiously; that made him so angry that he strode through the castle only to find someone to give a detention to or take points from.

Just after Severus had made two Gryffindor first year girls run from him screaming on Saturday afternoon, after a long week had passed without Remus's lips on him, he turned in a swirl of robes to face an amused werewolf, leaning against the stone wall, arms folded. Severus's breath hitched and he took a step backwards. That made the other chuckle huskily and Severus had to stop himself from moaning once again.

"Poor things. I'm glad that I wasn't eleven when you became a teacher," Remus said, pushing himself off the wall with his elbow. "I hope I'm not the reason for your bad mood?"

Severus swallowed. "Not directly," he replied. Remus stepped closer with a frown.

"I am sorry that we didn't find the time to talk all week," he said quietly and put his hands into the pockets of his patched robes, shaking his hair out of his golden eyes. Severus lowered his head slightly, then he nodded. "Do we have to talk?" the werewolf asked with another sheepish smile.

Severus looked at him for a long moment, taking in the slightly blushed cheeks and the apprehensive ambers. "I don't know," he said quietly, but he knew that that was a lie so he corrected himself, "Yes… I think we do. But –" he hesitated, pressing one hand against the cold stone wall to cool himself down before continuing, "– but not here."

Remus nodded glancing around him to check if anyone was watching. "Maybe you could come to my rooms tonight?" he asked, apparently feeling more sure of himself in his own surroundings than in Severus's. "I'll make us a cup of tea."

Severus gave him a curt nod and got a beam in return, accompanied by a step into his direction and the movement of an arm which looked just like the one in the Saturday night one week before when they had parted, and Severus's heart raced in anticipation of the other's touch. But suddenly they heard voices from round the corner and Remus stepped back again whipping his head around only to turn back to Severus with an apologetic smile. Severus's disappointment must have been displayed in his eyes.

"So… I'll see you after dinner?" the werewolf asked softly, his hoarse voice giving away his impatience. Severus nodded again, meeting his eye, cursing the people the voices belonged to. Remus smiled warmly at him and held out his hand like he had on the day of their fight. Severus stared at it for a second before he took his own hand off the wall and seized it, hungering for every touch he could get, no matter how tiny, never wanting to let it go again. Remus's hand was hot against Severus's icy skin and with his firm grip, the werewolf seemed to tell him that he didn't want to let go either. But he did and Severus swept past him into the direction of the voices, ready to give detention for too loud walking.

At dinner Remus wasn't present. Again. Severus finished his potatoes and chicken quickly and left the Great Hall very early which ensured that no one would notice his visit to the werewolf's rooms. Already when he entered the corridor Remus's office was situated in he could smell the white tea. The door was open and the other's hoarse voice hummed some song when Severus entered. He found the Gryffindor in his sitting room, a paper in his hands.

"Good evening, Severus," he said, stopping his humming and turning round with a warm smile. "Have a seat."

Severus came closer, but he didn't sit down, instead he took the paper from the werewolf and read the headline on the front page above the loathed face whose state of withered madness satisfied him immensely. '_Escaped mass-murderer Sirius Black sighted again_'. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes wandered to Remus's upset ambers. He laid the paper down on the small table before the fireplace, eyes never leaving Remus's and said, "Don't worry about _him_…" he spat the last word, disgusted by the mere thought of Black occupying the werewolf's mind. "He has no chance of getting into the castle."

Remus shook his head but his eyes stayed upset and he folded his arms tightly over his chest. "I don't know… I just…" he said, turning away from Severus to sit down in his armchair. The Potions master sat down opposite of him on the sofa, bringing their knees as close together as they had been the last time he had sat there. "I think people underestimate him."

Severus scowled. Extraordinary Sirius bloody Black. He didn't want the werewolf to talk about him like that. Though he knew of course that it wasn't meant as a compliment. Remus handed him a cup of steaming tea and he took it, warming his hands on the hot porcelain. Again the warmth he actually wanted was right there before him and again he couldn't grasp it. He wished the other would notice his longing and touch him again. They sipped on their tea at the same time like a week before and Severus imagined how he would taste if they kissed right now, meeting the golden eyes.

Severus set his cup down on the table and glanced through the sitting room, trying to find a topic to get away from Black. His eyes drifted over the naked stone walls and the tables and shelves void of photos. "You don't seem to make yourself at home," he muttered and Remus followed his gaze.

"Oh well, I… it's silly, but I think as long as I'm prepared to leave I won't have to," he replied with a slight chuckle in his hoarse voice. Severus raised an eyebrow skeptically and the other continued, "You see… I don't want to unpack and get used to this only to be forced to pack again and leave it behind. I see it as a miracle every day I wake up in that bed and have tea with you in this room. A gift. I don't want to take it for granted. Well, I guess it really is silly, but I think it would be bad luck to make myself at home."

"Superstitious as ever. I wouldn't be so pessimistic," Severus said. "Dumbledore won't sack you."

Remus smiled sadly and sipped on his tea again, moving his leg to the right, so that it touched Severus's for one second or two. A surge of warm pleasure ran through the Slytherin's body and he closed his eyes for a moment.

"How's your leg?" Remus mumbled into his tea and Severus's hand gripped his thigh, a painful reminder of their nocturnal meeting.

"It is alright," he replied coolly, trying not to show a weakness. "I can still feel it though. My back, too."

"Why didn't you visit Madam Pomfrey?" the werewolf asked, raising his eyebrows. Severus hesitated. Well, yes, why hadn't he?

"I… don't know," he answered, thinking that actually he had forgotten it on purpose because it was a constant stimulator of his memories. Remus smiled.

"I let her see my ankle. It had swollen over night and it hurt a lot. Not being able to walk properly is dangerous when you are a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Or a teacher in general if Fred and George Weasley are your students," he explained, grinning, and after a pause he added, "But at least it was a proof that the night before had really taken place… otherwise I would have thought that I had dreamt a fantastic dream."

Severus swallowed and nodded, agreeing with his every word. He shivered when the other's knee touched his again, only a moment, as if by accident. The werewolf's eyes were boring into him and he had to look away when their knees touched once again, this time for several moments and then again, and then Remus didn't remove his knee anymore, keeping it in place, apparently reassured by the Potions master's earlier reactions. Severus's heart was racing and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. Incredible that such a small touch should excite him so much. But it was the intimacy in it which did the trick. He just wasn't used to intimacy.

"Shall we talk about it, Severus?" Remus said in the mildest of voices and Severus glanced at him.

"I wouldn't know what to say," he answered truthfully.

Remus shrugged. "You needn't really say anything, you know?" he grinned and rested his elbows on his legs, his right hand so very close to Severus's knee. "But I'm not sure if we can just let it be what it is without agreeing on what it is exactly." He ran a hand through his hair and down his neck, that beautifully pale neck. Again, Severus swallowed.

"What do you mean?" he said weakly, slapping himself for it in his mind. Remus cocked his head to one side and gave him an amused look.

"I must admit, I enjoy the effect I have on you," he said and chuckled huskily, proving his point by making Severus shiver. The Potions master scowled and Remus quickly continued, "What I meant was, um, what do you think of it? How would you describe it?"

Severus met his eyes, thinking about what to say. He knew what he thought of course. He thought that they should repeat it as often as possible. He would describe it as a necessity for him to survive. He thought that soon the other's knee against his would drive him crazy. He cleared his throat.

"I cannot say," he replied, because he really couldn't. He couldn't lay his soul out in front of the other. Though he wouldn't mind Remus looking at it by force. It was as if his tongue were shackled.

Remus's eyes narrowed and his brow creased when he let his eyes wander over Severus's black form. Suddenly he reached for Severus's arm and laid his hand onto his wrist, staring into his surprised eyes. "You see, I've never lived up to my Gryffindor traits quite like I did in the last weeks," he whispered, got up and sat down again beside Severus on the sofa, taking a gulp of his tea. Severus looked at him, turning a little to face him. "I only need to know one thing: Would you like to repeat it?" the werewolf asked looking at him, searching his eyes for the answer. Severus inclined his head, holding his gaze but keeping quiet.

Remus raised his hand and laid it onto Severus's shoulder, his eyes imploring him to say or do something, apparently not wanting to go any further without his consent. So, Severus took a deep breath and whispered, "I think you already know the answer," he hesitated before addressing him, "Remus."

The werewolf inched closer, beaming at Severus, obviously delighted that he had used his given name and it touched Severus in a strangely sentimental way. The delicate hand on his shoulder slid up his neck, sending a tingle over his skin, long, delicate fingers burying themselves in his black hair, making his breath quicken. The werewolf laid his other hand on Severus's chest and leant in, licking his lips. Severus could barely wait for him to close the gap, finally, finally he would feel him again after all the interruptions; he lifted his hand to touch the other's arm when –

"Remus?" called someone from inside the werewolf's office, making them both flinch and driving them apart. "Are you there? I wanted to ask you for a cup of tea." It was Albus.

"Merlin's _beard_!" Severus hissed angrily, frustration spreading through his stomach. His skin burnt where Remus touched it, hand still on his neck and he wished he were a more powerful wizard so he could hex Dumbledore into oblivion. Remus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together.

"He visits in the most indecent moments," he then said quietly with an extremely rueful look at Severus who scowled with a nod. The werewolf drained his cup of tea and pushed himself off the sofa, putting one hand onto Severus's leg as if it were the most natural touch in the world. A tingling shiver shot through the Slytherin's body at the contact.

"I'm here, Headmaster," he called, walking into his office, probably trying to keep Albus out of his rooms. But Severus knew the old man better than that. It was too much of a coincidence that he turned up right now. The Potions master took his cup and drank the remaining tea, imagining that the warmth in his mouth was Remus's. He heard the muffled voices from the office, set his cup down, taking out his wand, and with a wave of it he vanished the porcelain and the teakettle. He wouldn't wait for his eye-twinkling boss to find him in the werewolf's rooms and bombard him with countless disgustingly smug questions.

Trying to calm his heart down, the Slytherin walked over to the fireplace, took some Floo powder from a small tin on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the grate.

Just when Remus led Albus into the sitting room reluctantly, telling him that he was afraid that he could only offer teabags, Severus disappeared in a flare of green flames. He would have to bear the yearning for a while longer.


	14. Loss

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling. The dialogues taken from PoA are not mine either I merely borrowed them.

Pairing: SS/RL

Warnings: Some Angst...

Author Notes: Merry Christmas everyone!

**Loss**

_Remus,_

_I will start brewing the Wolfsbane tomorrow and still need to check your weight again. Tell it to me before tomorrow at 10._

_S. S._

Severus wrote the message on a small piece of parchment and slipped it into the stack of the werewolf's teaching material which lay on the table in the staffroom, obviously having been left there for quick access between classes. It was Monday and since he had left on Saturday without any further comment, the werewolf hadn't talked to him or even looked at him anymore, usually he bustled past him, stress clearly written on his face, his eyes averted or his nose in some book. Severus wondered if he had made him angry by disappearing but he didn't have the time to pay him a visit in his quarters and they had never met alone anywhere else on Sunday either.

Writing a letter was much easier and at least nobody could interrupt anything which only existed on paper. Another moment of such intimacy which was interrupted would definitely make Severus go crazy. When he left the staff room for the next lesson, Remus entered it and they collided, making the werewolf stumble backwards. He apologised and looked up at Severus. He really looked much healthier, not as skinny as he used to be, probably the configuration of the potion wasn't only possible but necessary. When their eyes met the werewolf nodded at him, without smiling though, and entered the staff room. Actually, Severus thought, the configuration is just an excuse to justify communication.

The Potions master spent the lesson with the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fourth years gliding through the rows and looming over one cauldron or another like every lesson, but his mind was distracted. His stomach churned at the mere thought of the werewolf's stern face and he feared that he had lost interest. Probably he would always think so, no matter what he said or did since most of the time he felt as if he behaved like a complete prick talking to the other. It wasn't a pleasant feeling not to know whether he'd ever be close to the werewolf again, in every possible way. He was cold all the time although it was still rather warm outside, it was the lack of Remus's presence. It was a real addiction. He shook his head to himself, scaring the Gryffindor seated in front of the cauldron he was staring into to death, making him leaf through his instruction papers to search for his mistake, though he hadn't even made one. Severus was shaking his head at himself. The werewolf wasn't good for him.

Suddenly the cauldron beside the one Severus was looking into started smoking and making screeching noises and before Severus could react it had exploded, leaving the Potions master and the students around it with stinking yellow slime on their clothes. With a glare Severus vanished the mess and took twenty points from Gryffindor, giving the shaking boy who the cauldron had belonged to a detention. No, he thought, he's not good for me.

After he had dismissed the class into the break and everyone had cleared out Severus made his way to his lab to look after a potion which had been simmering the whole morning. When he bent over the potion he was shocked to see that it was green instead of purple. He whirled round to look at the ingredients he had used, he was sure that he had added the powdered horn of a unicorn at the proper moment and in the proper amount, so why had the potion turned –

He stopped dead when he saw the phial with the powder he had used, taking it into his hand and holding it before his eyes. Bicorn. He had used the powdered horn of a bicorn. Breathing deeply and regularly to calm himself down he put the phial back into the cupboard and vanished the useless potion from the cauldron with a wave of his wand. He couldn't believe that he had made such a grave mistake. Now he would need to start the potion over again. He was sure he must have been thinking about the werewolf while brewing since he almost always thought about him lately and therefore he must have been so distracted that he had reached for the wrong powder and spoilt his potion.

Severus took the handle of the cauldron to lift it off the fire but very suddenly flaming fury rolled up inside of him and he hurled the cauldron across the dungeon with all the strength he could muster, and it crashed into the wall with a deafening metallic clang. The stone splintered slightly where it had been hit and the cauldron fell to the floor, a long crack in its side. Severus steadied himself on the table and took a couple of deep, ragged breaths, pushing down the anger. No, the werewolf was definitely not good for him.

The Potions master didn't feel up to brewing the potion once more right now so he left his laboratory and headed for his classroom to wait there for his sixth year N.E.W.T-course until the break was over. He had been walking up and down between the blackboard and the door for five minutes, trying to think of nothing (he failed), when he heard a knock on the door and stared at it. The bell hadn't rung yet, had it?

"Yes?" he said warily and the door opened. In came Remus. Severus raised an eyebrow, growing nervous somehow. "What is it?" he said coolly and the werewolf walked towards him, holding up the slip of parchment Severus had left with his things.

"You wrote that you wanted to know my weight, so I thought I'd tell it to you personally," he said, coming to a halt a foot away from Severus. Actually he had hoped for a written answer. Paper was easier to handle than werewolves were.

"That wouldn't have been necessary," he said, again rather coolly.

"I know," Remus replied and after a moment's silence in which Severus couldn't meet his eye he added, "It's sixty-three."

Severus nodded, fixing his eyes on one of the patches on Remus's sleeve. The other was so… strange, so different somehow. Severus didn't know what to say, but Remus didn't leave, just stood there, watching him, boring his eyes into him.

"Severus," he said quietly and before the Potions master had even looked up, he had taken two long strides forward and thrown his arms round Severus's neck, making him stagger backwards. Severus's eyes widened and he forgot to breathe, his heart racing as if he had run a thousand miles, a violent flush rising in his white face. Heat was overwhelming him. Remus's body was pressed up against his, the werewolf's arms bringing them tightly together and Severus could feel the other's heart beat over his own, just as quick. He didn't know what to do. How should he behave in such a situation? He was so nervous that his brain hardly even worked and he hated being helpless. Why couldn't the werewolf just say something. Anything. It was as if Severus were frozen to the spot, unable to move. It had been quite some time since he had been hugged. Embraced.

When Remus shifted his head so his lips were touching his ear Severus shivered. "Severus... I," he whispered and pressed his soft lips against Severus's cheek, making it flame and Severus's arms laid themselves around the werewolf's body, moving on their own accord, squeezing him. When the bell rang and voices filled the Entrance Hall above them, Remus let go, bringing a little distance between them, though he left his arms resting on Severus's shoulders, gazing up into his cold black eyes.

"I didn't want to wait another week. Not even another day," he whispered and Severus was sure that his knees had turned to pudding. "Don't always torture me like that, Severus." And with that he leant in again, brushing his lips against Severus's, making him shiver with pleasure and relief. Finally. The warm tenderness made him light in the head and he threaded his fingers through Remus's honey hair, breathing in his wonderful fragrance. But after only a few short seconds, the werewolf pulled back and took his warmth with him once more, stepping away from Severus.

"Will you bring me the Potion tomorrow?" he asked softly, when the voices drew nearer and Severus nodded, smoothing out his robes. "Alright. I'll be expecting you." Remus touched the Potions master's cheek in a short caress, giving him the sweetest smile yet, and left, humming to himself. Severus looked after him for a moment and ran his hands through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too disheveled. Then he walked over to the door, where the voices were buzzing loudly and with a last deep breath he opened the door to let the students in.

When he waved his wand to write the instructions for the potion he would let them brew onto the board, his hand shook considerably and he needed to sit down to prevent his knees from giving way. No, the werewolf wasn't good for him. But he didn't care.

Over the next week Severus brought Remus one goblet of Wolfsbane Potion per day every afternoon, before lunch. On Tuesday he walked up to his office and was greeted with a broad smile and thanked with a shy kiss on his cheek, which he only reacted to with a nervous nod, before he left again. It left him feeling hot and weak in the knees and he had to lean against the wall for a moment, telling himself how pathetic he was, before he made his way down into the dungeons again. On Wednesday and Thursday he brought the goblet with him to the staff room on Remus's request due to the grading he had to do and the shorter way to lunch. He only got a sweet smile then and soon he missed his touch again.

When Friday arrived, Severus brought the potion to Remus's office again hoping for some more intimacy, longing for it. He was a little disappointed when he saw how busy the werewolf was, sitting at his desk, surrounded by countless rolls of parchment, barely looking up when he wished Severus a "good afternoon". Severus waited until the other had drained the goblet and turned to leave again but was caught by the hand. He turned his head and met Remus's golden eyes. "I'm sorry, Severus," he said. "Thank you." Severus leant in a little as if automatically when Remus reached up to hug him but today he didn't kiss him. That left Severus frustrated and thoughtful, wrecking his brain why the other hadn't done it. Maybe he interpreted too much into it. He wished he were brave enough to ask Remus for the answer but he felt embarrassed by the mere thought.

Severus decided to wait for the next day to see if Remus would behave like that again. He would try to stay a little longer and have a real conversation with him again. Another thing he missed. So on Saturday, the day of the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, he filled the goblet with Wolfsbane Potion and climbed the many stairs to the other's office. But when he knocked on the door and was allowed in ("Come in"), the werewolf wasn't alone. Severus stopped when he saw the insolent Potter-brat sitting on _his_ chair, drinking from _his_ cup, together with _his_ werewo–; he stopped his train of thought there, very abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at the boy. How _could_ he dare? Now he even stole the little time Severus had with the werewolf from him. And Remus even seemed to enjoy his presence.

"Ah, Severus," said he smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Severus set the goblet down on the table, looking from one Gryffindor to the other. Why didn't he throw the boy out? He had known that Severus would come, so why had he let him in at all.

"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," said Remus pleasantly and pointed at a glass tank in the corner. Severus didn't even look at it. He was in a very bad mood.

"Fascinating," he said. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," replied Remus but didn't touch the goblet. Severus grew impatient, he didn't like his tone.

"I made an entire cauldronful," he continued, though he knew that Remus must know that very well. "If you need more." It was meant as a message. An invitation. But the werewolf didn't seem to get it.

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus." Remus smiled. Severus scowled. He was throwing him out, wasn't he? That was too much. Severus was fuming inside.

"Not at all," he said and left with a last wary look at the two Gryffindors. He walked down the corridor into the direction that Potter wouldn't take since it was leading to the Astronomy Tower and leant against the wall behind a corner. He would wait for Potter to leave. He wanted to know if Remus had changed his mind. And he didn't have to wait for long. After a few minutes the door opened and closed again and he heard the boy walk away, his steps quickly disappearing.

When Severus approached the door of the werewolf's office, it opened and Remus stepped out with the goblet in his hands. He looked up, noticing Severus's presence and smiled, surprised.

"Oh, Severus, I wanted to bring you the goblet. I thought you had invited me," he said showing Severus into his office.

"I thought you hadn't realised," Severus growled and watched Remus open the door to his sitting room.

"And I thought you hadn't realised my invitation," he replied smiling slightly, "when I said you should leave the potion on the table. I meant to take it down to you and visit. I could hardly throw Harry out just because Professor Snape came in. That would have destroyed the illusion that you hate me."

Severus stared at him. Oh. That explained a lot. But still, the werewolf hadn't touched him. It seemed to Severus as if he were even keeping a distance. They sat down on the sofa and the werewolf set the goblet down on the table, leaning back with a sigh. Then he chuckled softly, as if to himself.

"Harry seemed quite shocked when he saw me drink the Potion. Apparently he thinks that you want to poison me to get my job."

Severus glared at him. "Oh, I don't think so. Even if you wanted to get my job, you would be smarter than poisoning me," Remus added quickly and his smile was replaced by a frown. "Why do you want to teach DADA so much? You're so good at Potions. I couldn't imagine anyone being better suited to teach them."

Severus looked out of the window. "They fascinate me, the Dark Arts," he answered quietly. "It is the variety of them, the possibilities they provide, the constant change they're in to prevent being beaten. I was there, I experienced them and their power." He wasn't so sure of what he said this time, it had been easier to tell the other about potions, something which wasn't meant exclusively for evil purposes. He didn't want the werewolf to think that he was evil.

"But you know that the subject is called _Defence Against_ the Dark Arts?" Remus grinned.

"Yes, of course. That's the point. If you can find a way to beat the Dark Arts… then you can really change something. You don't understand. Who's interested in a new potion? Everyone is impressed only by new spells and powerful magic," Severus said, rolling his eyes.

The other was silent for a while, staring up at Severus who was sitting in a stiff posture, trying to ignore the werewolf's hand beside his leg. "I am impressed by your potions. You see how wonderful the things you can achieve are," Remus replied finally, waving his hand into the direction of the goblet. "That is much more special than fighting Dark magic with spells. You can relieve the world of their gravest problems."

Severus looked at him, his cold eyes wandering over Remus's delicate features. "I am quite good at inventing spells," he said, trying to convince himself that he wasn't attempting to impress the other man. He restrained himself from telling him that the spell his little friends had used to lift him into the air with had been invented by himself. A bitter experience, his own spells being used against him.

"I'm sure of that," Remus smiled. "And you are brilliant at Potions." Severus met his warm eyes and nodded, thinking that yes, actually he was right. Probably he was much better at Potions than at spells. And they were less humiliating. Still, the DADA job was a goal. Maybe because he couldn't have it. Maybe because even Albus didn't give him that chance. The only chance he strove for.

"Maybe one day you will cure lycanthropy," the werewolf whispered, smiling. You'd be the first to drink that cure, Severus thought, but didn't say it. Remus chuckled again. "I heard the children talk about Hogsmeade all week. I cannot believe they're still so fascinated by the Shrieking Shack."

Severus smirked a little. "It is indeed hard not to tell them the truth. That actually there never were any spirits in there," he said silkily and Remus turned to look at him with a worried face. "I mean, actually, you are a celebrity." At this the Gryffindor grinned.

"Yes, it's funny, isn't it? So much fuss about a little bit of monthly howling that stopped over a decade ago," he said. "You're right, it is strange to know the truth without being able to tell it. It's hard to believe that anyone would go to so much trouble only to enable me to study here. Really, I cannot believe it myself, that anyone would do something like that only for me."

Remus was still smiling slightly but his eyes were sad. Severus didn't agree with him. He could believe it, could comprehend it. But again he didn't say it. Maybe, he thought, maybe he doesn't touch me because I didn't respond. He fixed the werewolf, running his eyes down his beautiful face to his beautiful neck. Everything about him was beautiful. The Potions master mustered all the bravery he could find in himself and inched closer to Remus, his arm snaking around his shoulders, lowering his head, determined to take the initiative this time. He brushed his lips against Remus's neck, against his soft skin, and kissed one of the many scars, drawing a soft sigh from the other's mouth. Then he raised his head, nuzzling the werewolf's jaw, tilting his chin up with a gentle hand, finding his lips and pressing his own down upon them.

It was as if finally his addictive needs had been satisfied and he moaned softly, when Remus slid his hands over his chest and –

Suddenly a pair of surprisingly powerful arms pushed him away and he stared at Remus in startled shock. The werewolf was panting slightly, face flushed, and he quickly averted his eyes when Severus's searched them. He buried his face in his hands and said, "Please, don't, Severus."

For a moment the Potions master didn't understand but then he realised what it all meant. It all made sense, the aversion to look at him, to touch him. After all, the werewolf didn't want him. Had probably only toyed with him, laughed at him behind his back. He was furious. At himself most of all. He snatched the goblet from the table and strode to the fireplace angrily.

"Fine," he snapped, barely able to hold his voice steady. The werewolf's eyes shot up to him.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a weak voice, probably still disgusted by his touch.

"Away, that's what you want, isn't it?" And with that Severus tossed a handful of Floo powder into the grate and disappeared.

When he arrived in his rooms he stumbled and fell and would almost not have got up again. He hurled the goblet into one of the glass cabinets in which he kept expensive potions ingredients and other materials as well as the awards he had received from the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. The glass shattered and Severus enjoyed the destruction, mimicking what was going on inside himself. He collapsed onto the sofa and tried to ignore the raging feelings inside of him, the sadness and the anger, the pain most of all. The feeling of loss.

When the feast started in the evening, Severus wished he could curse all the cheerful people around him, laughing and smiling. Sitting at the High Table he kept glancing over to the werewolf. He knew very well that the smile he was giving Flitwick was not genuine, but it made him sick that he was smiling at all, that he had someone to talk to, someone he listened to. And it made him sick that he wished it were himself. It hurt, and he was feeling empty and humiliated. He had opened himself too much to the werewolf, had let him see what he never let anyone else see. Why had he rejected him?

After the feast had been terminated and everyone was retiring to their rooms a panic broke loose. Sirius Black had broken into the castle and tried to get into Gryffindor Tower. Severus cursed the moron's stupidity that he hadn't managed to kill the Potter brat. At the same time, though, he wondered how he had gotten into the castle without anyone noticing. How could he have managed that on his own? When he hurried up to the corridor of the Fat Lady which was full of Gryffindors he joined McGonagall and, unfortunately, the werewolf meeting Albus standing in front of the slashed portrait, Peeves hovering above his head, telling him that Black had destroyed the portrait when the Fat Lady hadn't let him in. Immediately Remus set off to search for Black as some of the other teachers had already done and it made Severus suspicious that he was running so determinedly into the direction of the third-floor corridor. He decided to follow him quietly and kept a distance between them so the other wouldn't notice him.

"Sirius!" he heard him call when he had arrived in the corridor and he pressed his back against a wall, straining his ears. "Sirius, are you there? Don't make things worse!"

So Severus had been right. The werewolf had let Black into the castle. He grew furious again. How could he have fallen for that charade? He whipped out his wand and tried to ignore the searing pain in his chest. The other had tried to gain his trust, nothing more. Had used him. And he would pay for it. Severus would find a way to get him sacked or into prison. When he heard him call the murderer's name again, in a desperate voice, he revealed himself, stepping out of the shadows behind the werewolf, pointing his wand at him.

The Gryffindor whipped round with a shocked look on his face, wand at the ready, lowering it quickly when he saw it was the Potions master.

"Severus, it's you," he said weakly, standing in front of the statue of the one-eyed witch.

"Where is he?" Severus growled, his eyes darting through the dark corridor. The werewolf's eyes widened.

"I don't know!" he said far too quickly, putting his wand away, staring at Severus's being directed at him.

"Liar!" Severus snapped, red sparks flying from his wand. "I heard you call his name, I saw you come here as if you knew exactly where to go! You helped him into the castle, didn't you?" He wanted the werewolf to say no, wanted him to shout at him, wanted him to soothe his anger. But when he did deny it, with that guilty gleam in his eyes, it only made him more furious.

"I didn't. I only thought I had seen a shadow move, that's why I came here. I don't know where he is and I didn't help him get in," he said quietly, and Severus wished he could believe him, but he was sure that the other at least knew more than he was letting on, that at most half of what he had said was true. But he didn't know which half. "Could you please lower your wand, Severus? It makes me a little nervous. I am unarmed, as you can see."

Severus hesitated. He wanted to curse him, hex him, make him feel the pain that he was feeling right now, thinking of how he pushed him away after he had finally found the bravery to take the initiative. But if he attacked him now, as the other was unarmed, and having no proof that he had helped Black, he would be the one sacked or imprisoned. So he lowered his wand, causing the werewolf to put on a relieved half-smile.

"I don't believe you!" said the Potions master in a threatening voice and the other flinched. "Dumbledore will hear about this!"

He turned and swept off ignoring the other's calls and his own urge to go back and pull him close. This was what he had been scared of, and now it had happened. How very encouraging.

Severus searched the third floor at least ten times before he was quite certain that no madman was there. He made sure to meet Remus once in a while to prevent him from doing anything criminal. He received reports from Filch who had searched the dungeons and from all the other teachers who had patrolled the rest of the castle, but no one had seen Black. The werewolf had been too quick. When Severus made his way down to the Great Hall to find Dumbledore at about three o'clock in the morning, his anger was growing steadily. He had so wished to be the one to find Black. He could have taken revenge so easily, no one would have complained. When he entered the Great Hall he strode over to Albus and the Weasley Head Boy.

"Headmaster?" he said quietly and the old man turned towards him. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?" Albus asked.

"All searched…" Severus replied with a look at Weasley.

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Severus asked carefully.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next," Albus answered with a warning look. Severus was so angry, it was hard not to shout at the older man. And in the presence of the boy he couldn't just blurt out his own theory without evoking Albus's anger. So he tried to avoid names.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before – ah – the start of term?" the Potions master said, barely moving his lips to make it clear to the boy that he wasn't supposed to hear it.

"I do, Severus," Albus said, not only his voice warning Severus to drop the topic. There was a dangerous gleam in his blue eyes. But Severus's fury was stronger than his respect right now.

"It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed –" he continued, still careful, nevertheless he made his point clear, but Albus interrupted him.

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," he replied firmly, in a tone which finally silenced the Potions master. He knew when his efforts were in vain. But still, he was angry at the old man for not listening. For being so naïve. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" the boy asked.

"Oh yes," said Albus in an unusually cold voice. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

And Severus was glad that he wouldn't let them in. Otherwise he'd probably see even more terrible moments in his mind. He didn't want to relive Remus's rejection. It was painful enough having experienced it once. That was unforgivable. That was why he needed him to leave.

Well, he would just have to keep trying. He watched Albus exit the Hall and wished he had been alone with him so he could have told him all about what he'd seen and heard. Now his chance had passed. Albus wouldn't listen to him anymore. He heaved a sigh when he left the Hall. He wished he had given in to fear in the beginning. That would have spared him the painful loss.


	15. The Truth

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the dialogue taken from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**The Truth**

On Sunday and Monday Severus slammed the Wolfsbane Potion down on the staff room table in front of the werewolf, making him flinch and look up at him, startled. On both occasions the Gryffindor tried to talk to him but Severus didn't listen, just swept off and back into his dungeons where he was brewing furiously, attempting to tear his mind away from the other. He neither wanted to see him nor to talk to him. Ever again. Or that was what he told himself. Inside he was absolutely indecisive and torn between his desire to be with the werewolf and his anger and disappointment about what he had done.

He couldn't bear all those emotions at once, he needed the werewolf to leave so he could continue his life alone and untroubled as he had used to before he had been overpowered by the Gryffindor's charm. But then again he didn't want to go back to that life. He wanted to go back to the intimacy. He wanted to go back to the werewolf's gentle hand touching his soul. No not only touching, changing it, healing it. Making him feel as if he were perfect the way he was. In his presence he had been able to be himself. All the things he had wanted, the werewolf had given to him.

And taken from him again. Severus almost broke the glass phial he was holding. Now he understood how two opposing feelings could live in one and the same moment in one and the same body. Even though he didn't look forward to an again lonely life, it was better than this state of painful emotional distress. So he was positively surprised when the Headmaster visited him in his quarters in the evening of the full moon, bringing him papers from Remus and announcing that he would be the one to teach his classes while he was still not feeling up to it.

"You will cover all his classes, that means, only if you feel capable of it, Severus," Albus said, looking at him over his half moon spectacles. Severus looked through the papers, written in the werewolf's untidy hand, and nodded.

"Of course, Headmaster. I'm glad I can help," he said silkily, trying not to give away his delight over the task. But Albus looked concerned.

"Is everything alright between the two of you?" he asked with a stern face. "You seemed rather angry at him. And poor Remus was so upset when he gave me those papers. He seems to think that you don't want to see him. Otherwise he would have brought them to you personally."

Severus glowered at him. "He's right. But that shouldn't be a surprise for you, Headmaster. Though, obviously you don't want to hear any of it, I do not trust him. And I do not like him."

I'm addicted to him, he thought to himself defiantly. That had nothing to do with liking him. He had never liked him. He didn't give a damn about him. He had been trying to convince himself of it for two days already. With no chance of success. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be so angry. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have made an effort to impress him or to make him like him. He did care. He more than liked him. And he wished there were a potion to get rid of all emotion. But there wasn't. He had already passed the point of no return and he knew it. There was a way, though, of getting rid of his problems' cause. A way that wouldn't land him in Azkaban. The only thing he needed for it was just one student smart enough to count one and one together… That shouldn't be a problem, should it?

After the full moon, Severus didn't visit the werewolf to bring him an Invigorating Draught. He had no interest in checking up on him or being in the same room with him altogether. He wanted him to suffer, and maybe the lack of such a potion would keep him away from work a little longer than if he received one. From Tuesday on, Severus taught his classes and was amused by the way most of them reacted. They shuffled in expecting that amiable ever-smiling moron and who was waiting for them? Their loathed, menacing Potions Professor. Their silly faces were very amusing indeed. In every class he found an excuse to cover werewolves. How to recognise them in human form. He gave all of them an essay on the topic. Especially Potter's class was entertaining. It started with Potter storming in ten minutes late, apologising to his DADA Professor who wasn't there at all until he caught sight of Severus sitting behind the teacher's desk.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down," Severus said, enjoying the shocked look on the blasted boy's face. But he didn't go to his seat, instead he said, "Where's Professor Lupin?"

Severus's stomach churned unpleasantly and he wanted to curse the boy for speaking the werewolf's name, he wanted to hurt the boy for making him feel guilty. He gave him a smirk, which would barely stay on his face and replied, "He says he is feeling too ill to teach today. I believe I told you to sit down?"

But still the boy didn't comply. "What's wrong with him?" he asked and Severus grew angrier, it was none of his concern.

"Nothing life-threatening," the Potions master replied and wished Potter would catch something deadly. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty." Severus hoped dearly for the boy to grant him the pleasure of taking the points from him but he didn't, instead he walked to his seat slowly and sat down.

Throughout the lesson Severus discredited Remus's teaching skills as well as he could and bullied Granger and Weasley, taking points from her and giving him detention for their disrespect. He gave the class an essay on how to recognise and kill werewolves, demanding two rolls of parchment from them just to annoy them. Maybe the know-it-all's insufferable intelligence would be useful for once.

On the day of the first Quidditch match the werewolf still hadn't recovered and Severus was a little worried despite himself. He refused to look after him though, instead he strained his ears at breakfast to overhear a conversation between Albus and McGonagall.

"– has caught a cold on top of everything. He seems to be especially weak against those after the full moon. When I visited him he could barely sit up in his bed," Albus said and it sent a guilty chill through Severus. He shook his head at himself. The werewolf deserved it. Yes, definitely!

"The poor boy," the witch replied with pity in her voice. "I hope he'll get well soon. Won't Severus make him a potion?"

Severus scowled at his plate. No, he wouldn't waste his ingredients! "I'm afraid, they seem to have a few differences which Severus is unwilling to overcome," the Headmaster said and Severus got up to leave the Great Hall in angry strides. The guilt started to grow stronger than the anger but that made him even angrier at himself.

Severus exited the castle and climbed the stairs on the Quidditch pitch where he was soon joined by the other teachers. The game didn't interest him much, Gryffindor was playing Hufflepuff and as usual he wished for Potter to fall off his broom. But suddenly, when Diggory and Potter were chasing after the Snitch, the air turned icy cold. Even though it was raining and a strong wind was blowing, this coldness was extreme and he knew what it meant. The stadium fell silent and Severus leant forward to see countless Dementors gliding over the pitch down below.

He felt terrible all of a sudden, just like he had the other day when he had come back from Hogsmeade passing them at the gates. But this time it was even worse. He fell back into his seat, holding his head, squeezing his eyes shut when he saw the werewolf's sad eyes, his pained face, when he felt the hands on his chest, pushing him away, over and over again, mixed with images of his childhood and the war, of all the frightened faces pleading for mercy, of the disgusted looks on everyone's faces, even Albus's, Remus's voice telling him to stop and the laughter… He was filled with guilt and pain and could have screamed. It was hard not to pass out. And then it was over.

Severus raised his head slowly, carefully, shaking slightly, and looked round. The other teachers were staring down onto the pitch, Albus was gone and Severus had the feeling that his wish had come true and Potter had fallen off his broom. If he couldn't withstand one Dementor then he certainly couldn't do it when there were a hundred. Severus blinked a few times and tried to suppress the foolish urge to run up to Remus's rooms and throw himself into his arms. He got up onto shaky legs and walked to the stairs to descend onto the ground. He could see Albus a few feet away hurrying towards the castle with a stretcher before him. Probably it was Potter who was lying on it, unconscious. The Potions master was a little disorientated when he made his way back to the castle on wobbly knees.

After he had arrived in his quarters and locked the doors behind him, Severus stripped his wet robes and fell into his bed, pulling the covers over himself. He was still shaking and cold sweat was running over his face. The guilt was overwhelming. He couldn't bear it. And he couldn't bear the pain Remus's rejection had left inside him. He had been stupid to let the werewolf get to him. But he couldn't make it undone. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He hugged the covers to his chest, pretending it was the werewolf, deciding not to be ashamed of his pathetic behaviour just for now.

He stayed in bed all day and when evening drew nearer he drifted off into a restless sleep. On Sunday he woke early and went into the Great Hall which was almost empty. As the other teachers came in one by one Severus was relieved that the werewolf wasn't among them. He would have to avoid the other as well as he could to keep the pain away that he felt when seeing his face. Albus's twinkling eyes, which were fixed on him, made him get up and leave as soon as he had finished his toast, taking his coffee with him. He didn't want to explain to the Headmaster why exactly he didn't look after the werewolf even though he knew that he must be much worse than after the last full moon. He just wanted to forget all that. To shake off the Dementors' influence.

In his office he brooded over the homework he had given his seventh years at the beginning of the week, reading the same sentence six times, not taking in a word of it. He still felt terrible and he couldn't think of anything but the fact that the werewolf had hurt him and probably used him and that he had been right in the beginning about the dangers of such a relationship. He wished dearly that he could just hate him, but he couldn't. He was desperate. A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts and he knocked over his cup of coffee, cursing.

"Yes?" he said irritably, cleaning up the mess, and the door creaked open to reveal a worn Remus Lupin, looking quite sick and pale with dark rings under his eyes like on the day after the Blue Moon. Severus rose from his chair with an angry expression. "What are _you_ doing here?" he growled. The werewolf seemed completely unimpressed as he closed the door behind himself and walked to the desk.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said in a raspy voice and watched Severus striding to the door to throw him out.

"I think I will do without that!" he snapped and opened the door again, pointing out into the passageway. Remus sighed but didn't move.

"Why won't you listen to me?" he asked in an impatient voice.

"If you don't leave, I'll lock you in here!" Severus replied crossly and finally the other man followed him out of the office. Severus locked the door and made his way downstairs to his lab. Remus didn't give up, though.

"Please, Severus, I want to know why you're angry at me!" he called after him, trying to catch up with him.

"You ask why? Isn't that obvious?" Severus snapped and continued on without looking back.

"Severus, just let me explain, listen to me, please, just for a second!" the werewolf said, sounding desperate and irritated at the same time.

"I am sorry, but I do not have any interest in listening to you. Leave me alone!"

"Do I have to make a step vanish to make you listen to me?" the werewolf said loudly and Severus stopped in his tracks so that the other could barely avoid a collision. That had been a raw nerve. Severus turned round and glared down at the Gryffindor who was staring back at him, not in the slightest intimidated. Suddenly something occurred to him. It would be so easy to trick the naïve fool into drinking a cup of tea without even getting suspicious of what might be in it.

"Very well," he said slowly. "Follow me." He led him into his laboratory and from there into his sitting room. He showed him to an armchair and offered him a cup of tea which he made behind his back, summoning a phial of Veritaserum without making a sound. He added a drop of it to Remus's Earl Grey and set the cup down in front of him. Then he sat down opposite him and watched the werewolf glance through his sitting room.

"So," he said when a few moments had passed in silence. "You wanted me to listen?"

Remus took the cup into his hands but didn't drink from it. His face was stern when he said, "Why are you angry at me exactly?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "You know why! You let Black into the castle, why don't you just admit it?" He didn't want to tell him that he felt terrible because of his rejection. He wouldn't humiliate himself even more. But now as ever, Remus knew exactly right what was going on inside of him.

"That's not it. First off, I didn't let him in. Secondly, I think that actually you are so furious because I pushed you away on Saturday. It was then that you started distancing yourself again," he said and Severus knew that he couldn't deny it. He hesitated for a moment.

"You didn't mean any of it, did you? You only wanted to distract me, gain my trust so that you could let Black in unhindered," his voice was shaking when he said it, not with anger, but with pain and sadness. "You pushed me away because you couldn't bear me being close to you!"

Remus stared at him and to Severus's astounding the surprise in his eyes seemed real. He set down the cup again and his brow furrowed. "That's what you think, Severus?" he whispered in a strange voice. "You think I used you? You think I had enough of you?"

Severus felt uncertain suddenly but he kept his expression cold. "I… let you in... And you…" he replied quietly but he couldn't continue. It was too hard, too awkward to say the words.

"You think I threw it away?" Remus asked, and Severus bit his bottom lip. "Oh, Severus… that's not true."

"But –"

"That happens because you never listen to me!" Remus interrupted him in a firm voice. "You always run off without listening and you don't give me a chance to explain. I didn't use you. And I certainly didn't let Sirius Black into the castle to kill Harry. If I had, wouldn't it have been especially stupid to do it on Hallowe'en? And wouldn't it have been just as stupid to push you away, making you suspicious on that very day?"

Severus stared. He had a point of course. But still, he had rejected him. And he had called the madman's name. And it didn't surprise him that a Gryffindor was stupid, most of all two Gryffindors… not this Gryffindor, though.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Severus. On the contrary," Remus continued in a much softer voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you or to give you the feeling that I didn't want you around me. I would never throw away what you have given to me. It is precious and I feel honoured to receive it. I felt so much worse after this full moon than after the one before that, not only because you didn't come but because I was scared that you'd _never_ come again. I could barely bring myself to get up all week. And believe me, I am not exaggerating."

The Potions master folded his arms. He didn't know what to say. The werewolf seemed sincere and actually Severus's will to mistrust him was shrinking like his hatred had weeks before. But the pain was still there and therefore the will to know the truth. The real truth, not just a supposed truth. Why didn't Remus touch his tea?

"Why did you reject me, if not because you dislike me?" Severus asked defiantly and was surprised to see Remus avert his eyes as if he felt ashamed.

"Because I feel quite the contrary for you," the werewolf muttered and met his black eyes again. "It was close to the full moon, very close, and in those times I feel the presence and the instincts of the wolf very clearly. Usually I don't let them come to the surface but round the full moon I don't have myself under control sometimes, especially when I'm confronted with strong emotions."

Severus narrowed his eyes, and Remus gave him a weak smile. "I enjoyed your touch. I enjoyed it a little too much at that moment and I… don't feel comfortable when the wolf is so dominant. I… you see, Severus I didn't want to hurt you or behave in any other repelling way. I wanted to make sure you didn't leave me. I was afraid of losing you. I still am. Little could I know that you would run off anyway," he paused and swallowed, shaking his hair out of his eyes and folding his hands. "You might call me silly, maybe I am but…" he chuckled nervously and Severus felt a nice tingling run through his body at the sound. "I pushed you away because I have fallen in love with you."

Those words had such an impact on Severus that he stopped breathing and gaped at the werewolf for a very long moment until he ran out of air. He could barely trust his ears. Had he really just heard him say that? He couldn't remember that anyone had ever said that to him. His heart raced and he was sure he had blushed. And he so wished for it to be the truth, he wanted to believe it and actually he did. It was one of the best feelings he had ever had. Remus smiled slightly when he watched Severus search for words and air, sitting up straight in his armchair and running a shaking hand through his hair.

"You… you mean…" he stammered and he wasn't ashamed of it this time because he thought he had all reason to stammer.

"Yes, I do. It's the truth. Maybe I should have told you earlier, but the full moon got in the way," Remus said and obviously he didn't expect an answer from the Potions master. Had just wanted him to know. Severus was absolutely speechless. He didn't know how the werewolf could feel for _him_ like that but… but it was pure bliss to know that he did. And he didn't need any Veritaserum to believe him that he had indeed spoken the truth. He froze at the thought. Remus had just taken his cup into his hands again and was about to put his lips to the rim when Severus cried, "Don't drink it!"

Remus's startled eyes shot up to meet his, and he lowered the cup in surprise. "What is it?" he asked and when he saw Severus's guilty expression, realisation dawned on his face. "You put something into it, didn't you?" he said quietly and Severus averted his eyes, feeling ashamed. "What is it?" His voice was so calm that Severus felt an unpleasant chill in his stomach.

"Veritaserum," he muttered and felt the other's eyes boring into him.

"You wanted me to drink truth serum? What for? To find out what I know about Sirius?" he sounded disappointed and it pained Severus. He had known it was wrong. But he had thought that the werewolf had betrayed him, so…

"I was –"

"You were suspecting me, of course. That justifies it, doesn't it?" Remus interrupted him again. "You want the truth Severus? You can have it!" And with that he drank the whole of the tea in one gulp, slamming the cup back down into its saucer almost shattering both. Severus stared at him incredulously. "Now you can ask me anything you like. Go ahead, ask me about Sirius, or about my feelings for you. Ask me whether I spoke the truth!"

The werewolf seemed very angry and Severus felt tempted. But he didn't want to ask him anything. He didn't want to break his trust even more. And most of all, he didn't want to ask him if he really loved him when under the influence of Veritaserum. That was something that he wanted to believe, something that he didn't need a confirmation for, none but the other's word and his behaviour. It would lose its magic if he asked him for the answer now. And it would destroy the precious connection between them if he did. He knew that he hadn't lied. He just knew. And that was a feeling that he didn't want to spoil after having spoilt so much between them already. He wanted to do something right for a change. Save even the tiniest chance of being forgiven.

"No," he said and Remus looked taken aback. "I won't ask you anything. Just go back to your rooms and don't talk to anyone for three hours until the effect wears off."

Remus rose from his armchair and gave him a very disappointed look. "How could you, Severus?" he asked and turned round, exiting the Potions master's quarters in long strides, leaving him behind, face in his hands, shame making his conscience even worse than it already was. He had wanted the truth. And the truth was that all along he had been the one hurting Remus and not the other way around. The truth was that he was being loved and could only return anger and coldness. And the truth was that he needed Remus. And that he would not give him up.


	16. Grey

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Warnings: Some Fluff and Angst.

**Grey**

On Monday, Severus kept his distance towards the werewolf, and he was quite sure that the other appreciated it. He was certain that the children were telling Remus about the homework he had given them since the werewolf's mood dropped considerably throughout the day. Severus's own mood wasn't the best, either. It had gotten a little better when he had taken fifty points from Gryffindor to punish Ronald Weasley for having thrown a crocodile heart at Draco but it got worse again when he met Remus in a hallway. The smaller man nodded at him but his face was dark and Severus desperately wished for one of those sweet smiles.

Severus waited in vain for the werewolf to come and talk to him about the homework. He would have to take the initiative and he would almost have fallen to the floor, hitting the stone in despair, not knowing how to approach the other. Finally he resigned to the fact that the most apparent way was the only possible one. But it was also the hardest. For him at least. He didn't have a choice, though, so he climbed the stairs to Remus's office in the evening and braced himself for a fight when he knocked on the door three times to announce that it was him and allow the other to refuse to let him inside. But Remus opened, looking expectant.

"Severus," he said, without the usual 'good evening' and it made the Potions master even more nervous than he already was. He knew what to say, had thought it through many times but the words didn't come easily. It wasn't a surprise to him.

"Remus," he began, trying to soothe the werewolf a little by saying his name. He wasn't quite sure if it worked, though. "I want to… to tell you something."

Remus raised his eyebrows and his expression told Severus that he was allowed to continue. "I'm…" Severus hesitated and scolded himself for having such a big ego for the second time in the year. "I wanted to say that I…" Remus sighed and it scared Severus a little. Now or never, he thought and took a deep breath, swallowing his pride. "I want to apologise. I was wrong and I regret what I did. Everything I did during the last week."

Remus considered him for a moment. Then he lowered his head, unable to conceal his broad smile and Severus's heart lightened immediately. It was as if all worries had been taken from him. When the werewolf looked up at him, though, still standing in the doorway, blocking it, he managed to ban the smile from his face.

"You come here and tell me that and you think I'll believe you?" his voice was firm but his face encouraging and his golden eyes still smiling, so, Severus stepped forward.

"How can I prove it?" he asked and Remus shrugged.

"I think you already know the answer, Severus," he said quietly and Severus took his hand shyly, not really sure how to touch him, but before he could go any further Remus took his hand away, stepping aside to let him in. "Not necessarily in the hallway, though," he added with a chuckle and Severus turned towards him with a scowl. When the door had been closed, he reached for the werewolf once more, pulling him close into an awkward hug, before bravery could leave him again. Remus buried his face in his shoulder, clinging to him as if he couldn't stand on his own legs anymore if he let go.

"So," Severus muttered, close to Remus's ear, "you… forgive me?" Remus snorted at that.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled into the fabric of Severus's black robes and it was all the Potions master could do not to be offended. When the other man pulled back, though, he gave him a disarming smile that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart, the fraud, turn very green with jealousy, and would almost have knocked Severus off his feet.

"How could I not forgive Severus Snape when he asks for it? And surprisingly quickly, too. I'm sure that doesn't happen a lot," the werewolf said and opened the door to his rooms. "The fact that you apologised shows me that you are truly sorry."

Severus followed him into his sitting room silently and took his usual seat on the sofa where he was joined by the werewolf, carrying two cups of the white tea, a few minutes later. He handed him one and their fingers brushed again, making them both linger for a very long moment. After they had both taken a sip Remus set his cup down and his face looked stern again.

"I told my classes that they needn't do your homework," he said quietly and looked down at his hands. Severus rubbed his neck and tried not to hide his shame.

"Yes, I shouldn't have done that," he said and stared at Remus who hung his head and bit his lip.

"It's alright, really… I mean… you've already apologised and I know that you are rather impulsive. I take it you don't want to get rid of me or get me killed any longer?" the werewolf replied, meeting his eyes with sad ambers that Severus could barely bear the sight of.

"No, I never… I was… angry and… hurt. I didn't really think. I thought you had… but not anymore," he couldn't quite form a complete sentence but Remus was satisfied. He took Severus's hand into his and smiled a little.

"You see, Severus… you run from everything potentially positive as soon as it proves to be painful. But that's the wrong solution. You have to make an effort to receive the positive things, even if it hurts sometimes. And I hope you'll agree with me that all the pain was worth it?" he said softly and searched Severus's eyes. The Potions master looked down at their hands and thought back to the words the other had let him hear. He nodded then, meeting his eyes and Remus beamed.

"You must know that happiness doesn't come easily and it is not constant. There's always pain involved. But the pain makes the happiness what it is. If there were only pleasurable times in our lives then we wouldn't realise them as pleasurable. I guess there'll always be more negative times than positive ones, but if the pleasure is still worth the amount of pain we must endure for it, then I think we shouldn't be afraid to risk being hurt."

Severus had listened closely and being afraid of any kind of emotional pain, he was grateful for the encouraging and sensible words. Still it was difficult to go a step further every time, knowing that probably one day, there would be an end to pleasure. It always cost him an enormous amount of energy and an extreme effort to make a decision. Change was frightening, and so was the prospect of someone knowing him so well that he could easily destroy him. Trust was what he needed for it, trust was what he lacked.

It was only when he felt Remus's hands on his face that he snapped out of his thoughts to find him looking into his eyes with an amused expression in his own. "I guess," he whispered bringing their lips close together, "that I've already achieved a lot. You make me feel special when I'm with you, because I know that not everyone would have gotten so close to you."

"No one," Severus breathed and their lips met in a tender kiss that seemed to last for months. When they broke apart, panting, Severus felt a bit of the warmth remaining in his body as if it were a reward for his taking another step towards Remus. He threaded his fingers through the other's soft gold and silver hair and just had to ask him. The question was burning on his tongue.

"Why did you drink the tea?"

Remus's brow creased. "I think that I believed you would do the right thing. Or I hoped you would. Forgiving would have been far more difficult if you hadn't."

Severus leant back and nodded. He had trusted in him. Even though he had already been betrayed. That was something Severus could never give to him.

"That's silly," he mumbled and sipped on his tea when Remus leant forward to see his face.

"Probably," he replied. "But I didn't regret it."

"Maybe one day you will."

"Maybe."

There was a short silence between them until Remus touched Severus's arm to get his attention. "The Willow," he said and Severus raised an eyebrow. "The Whomping Willow, it smashed Harry's broom."

The Potions master rolled his eyes and got up. Not the boy again! "So what?" he snapped and was surprised to find the werewolf's hand on his shoulder, turning him a little so he was facing him.

"Can you tell me what happened, exactly?" he asked, his eyes somewhat guilty.

Severus heaved an annoyed sigh and shrugged. "I didn't see anything. The Dementors came onto the pitch and he fell, that's all I know. The wind must have blown his broom into the tree."

"You didn't see anything?"

Severus hesitated. "No," he then said slowly. "The Dementors…"

Remus stared at him for a moment and Severus knew he understood. "I'm glad I wasn't there," the werewolf muttered and looked out of the window. "On the other hand, maybe I could've helped Harry."

Severus shook his head. "Dumbledore did fine without anyone of us. You couldn't have done anything."

Remus's eyes narrowed and his fingers seized the fabric of Severus's robes tightly. "It's my fault that Harry's broom was destroyed. They planted that Willow because of me." Severus sighed. How silly to think such a thing. But then again, he had proven to feel silly things all along.

"You couldn't help it. Stop blaming yourself," he said and took Remus's hand into his, freeing his shoulder from the tight grip. "It should have been removed long ago."

"Still, I feel guilty," the werewolf replied, hanging his head. When he looked into Severus's eyes again it seemed as if he needed to talk to someone about something important and he confirmed Severus's suspicion by saying, "Harry said that… May I tell you about it?"

The Potions master rolled his eyes again, unwilling to hear any of it but he nodded, throwing up his arms in despair. Remus smiled slightly but in the next moment his face was stern again. "He told me about what he hears when the Dementors draw near. Not that I hadn't guessed, I told him that he was not weak no matter what anyone said, that what he has experienced was far worse than most can imagine. But after I had assured him that, he told me that he could hear his mother – Lily – being… murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Severus flinched a little at the name. He hated it when people said it, as if it were especially bold to do so. Well it was of course, if you weren't afraid to die a painful death. He turned away from Remus and folded his arms. "Don't say his name," he hissed and felt the other's startled look on him. "You know as well as I do what happened to those who did. Those who were especially _brave_. They were the ones to die the most agonising deaths."

Remus stepped closer to him and he heard the rustling of his robes. "I know. But… he is not in the position to kill me now. As soon as he is, I will stop saying his name."

"You shouldn't get used to it at all. It is difficult to change a habit. The Dark Lord wanted the wizarding world to be so afraid of him that they wouldn't even speak his name. It was very clever of him to use his name to track those down that weren't afraid enough yet. Leaving an example for all the others," Severus said quietly, then he continued in a sneer, "It would be a pity if your exceptional bravery made you one of those examples next time."

Remus kept silent for a while and Severus knew he didn't agree. "You call him 'the Dark Lord'. I call him by his name. So we both do something that the other doesn't like," he said finally and Severus turned to look at him angrily.

"I call him that because I need to. Because I have never called him differently while being his follower and a spy. What if I need to go back to being that?" he snapped.

Remus shook his head. "I know but… it is the name Death Eaters use. It sounds as if you were looking up to him. He doesn't deserve that. You should look down upon him. I used his name in the war because I was not afraid, and I survived. I will do the same in the future. Please respect that. Just as I respect your point of view."

Severus stared at him for a moment. He didn't like it. Partly it was worry and partly it was fear that maybe somewhere out there, he was still hearing his name when uttered. And Severus didn't want Remus to be one of his victims. He turned away again and huffed, frustrated. Those who were brave insisted on their bravery no matter how silly or dangerous it was. But then again, that was the exact definition of bravery. And of a Gryffindor. Silly and unafraid of any danger whatsoever. "Just don't say his name in my presence," he said and when Remus wanted to protest he continued, "You were saying? The boy told you…?"

The werewolf sighed. "As I was saying, Harry hears his mother dying. I had figured out that much of course but hearing it from his mouth was… just terrible and painful. The poor boy has gone through so much and now… And I couldn't even comfort him properly, what with my being a complete stranger to him apart from being his teacher," he paused for a moment, apparently fighting against a sob that was crawling up his throat. Severus supposed it must be hard on him that the boy he had known since he was a baby, who was the son of his best friends, all that was left of the happy times, didn't know who he was, didn't know that he had suffered the same loss as him, didn't see in him more than in any other teacher. "Anyway… he asked me if I could show him how to fight Dementors and I said I would, after the holidays, so I'm going to teach him the Patronus Charm."

Severus whirled round to face him. "You what?" he snapped and Remus's eyes widened in surprise. "You cannot do that. You of all people. Favouring a student, _this_ student! Albus won't tolerate that."

The werewolf sat down on the back rest of the sofa, considering Severus's angry figure. "I don't know about that… I feel obliged somehow. As if it were my duty –"

"It's not! You have no obligations toward that boy! To him you're just another teacher! As if he deserved your attention…" Severus contradicted him angrily causing Remus to narrow his eyes at him. "What?" Severus growled, feeling as if the other were taking him apart with his eyes.

Shaking his head, Remus put his hands into his pockets. "What makes you so angry at Harry? And now don't say, that he's being cheeky to you, as far as I've heard, you've disliked him from the very beginning."

Severus didn't want to talk about his reasons. Wasn't his being Severus's tormentor's son reason enough? But Remus knew that that wasn't all. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked. And that knowing was what made Severus speak. And it was a relief to finally do so.

"I was the one who told the Dark Lord about the Prophecy," he burst out. "I –" He hesitated when Remus's eyes became unfathomable, and his brow creased. "Every time I look at the boy, I feel the guilt. And yet I hate him. I hate him for being Potter's son. And I hate him for the fact that it was my fault that his parents died. He is a living reminder of it. I just cannot bear the guilt. That is why… that is why I loathe him."

Remus just stared as if he had to let his words sink in before commenting on them. The silence stretched to an unbearable length and Severus, not daring to touch the other but unable to keep looking at him without it, turned away, walking over to the window. He steadied himself on the windowsill, gazing out over the dark grounds, wishing, pleading for a reaction from the werewolf.

"You couldn't have known, could you?" Remus's mild voice finally – finally – sounded over to him. "You didn't tell him that he needed to kill the Potters. You didn't know. And… and you told Dumbledore about it, didn't you?"

Severus nodded at the other's reflection in the glass but he felt bitter none the less, the guilt eating him up inside. He longed for Remus's touch now, but he couldn't ask for it. "I changed sides then… But… still, if it hadn't been for me –"

"Of course you made a mistake. But it wasn't entirely your fault, Severus. Many aspects added up to a catastrophe. And thanks to you, Lily and James knew beforehand that… _he_ wanted to kill them. They could go into hiding thanks to you. What happened afterwards wasn't your fault," Remus said quietly and Severus didn't comprehend why he was so understanding, so calm and soothing with the man who had cost his friends their lives. He felt terrible because of it. He buried his face in his hands and didn't even hear Remus approaching him before he closed his arms around his waist, laying his head onto his back between his shoulder blades. Now that the touch was there, it was too painful to bear. "Don't blame yourself for things that were inevitable. Things that happened long ago."

Severus turned, wrenching himself away from the other man. "Why are you like that? Why don't you shout at me, throw me out? Curse me? Why don't you hate me?" he shouted desperately. Any of that would be easier to bear than this, he thought.

Remus's eyes were sad and he looked very hurt, not by Severus, though. With him. "Is that what you want? Would it make you feel better? If I punished you for what you did?" he asked in barely more than a whisper. "I don't want to punish you, Severus. Those wounds healed over long ago and now yours should, too. I have lost all of my friends. Not because you betrayed them, but because one of them betrayed all of us. What you did wasn't betrayal since you weren't one of us then, and you didn't mean for them to die. You didn't tell him to kill them, he chose to do so. Nor did you kill them yourself. You didn't understand what kind of information you were giving to him. Other than their Secret Keeper and best friend. I will not give you up because of it. Don't ask me to hate you because I won't. Of course this knowledge is painful but stop putting all the blame on yourself. You have punished yourself enough. Now it is time to forgive, Severus. It is time for you to leave all that behind you and think of all the good things you did to atone for it. I don't want to see you suffer. You don't deserve it."

I don't deserve you, Severus thought, his hands shaking. He didn't deserve any of this. "When I brought Dumbledore the information I begged for my life like a helpless child. I thought he would kill me so hateful – so disgusted – did he look down on me… He didn't do it. I would have deserved it. Probably he didn't think me worth the curse."

"He gave you a chance," said Remus and his brows knitted.

Severus gave him a sharp look. "He wanted to see if I was of any use… if I wanted to bring a message from the Dark Lord. He only didn't kill me afterwards because he found me a good spy."

Remus shook his head. "He cares about you."

"I am a tool nothing more," said Severus darkly and averted his eyes.

"Not to me," replied Remus firmly.

"I am not a good person, no matter what you say, and you know it. So tell me: How can you be so good to me?" he whispered, defeated, leaning against the mantelpiece. I've never met a better person than you. When Remus came closer Severus knew he didn't have the right to want him. That he should be ashamed of himself for letting this happen. But he did want him, he wanted him to comfort him and to tell him that he wasn't the one who should feel guilty, that he couldn't have changed it and that it wasn't only his fault. He wanted him to soothe him and to hold him and to make him feel a little better, mending another part of his mutilated soul. And he couldn't help but let it happen when the werewolf pulled him down, embracing him warmly, caressing his back in soothing circles accompanied by just as soothing words.

"Because I know that you are not a bad person, either. There's always grey in between black and white. Actually, I think everyone is some shade of grey. And even though, or maybe because you confessed to me all the things that make you black I know that you are not. I know _you_, that's why I fell in love, you see?" he said softly and Severus laid his arms around him very tightly. "Such a powerful feeling is not easily destroyed. And even if it were, there would always be a shadow left of it. Some piece that remains. And even though you might not realise it, you are good to me, as well."

The Potions master let himself be held for a very long time, just standing there in front of the window, enjoying the warmth, realising to his surprise that solace, which he had never known and never believed in, was indeed more effective than punishment, which he had indulged in excessively to relieve the guilt. Far more effective. And far more relieving. Especially in his arms. When they finally let go of each other their tea had turned cold and the tears on Remus's face had dried without Severus even noticing that they had been shed. He was sure then that even the strongest potion, creating the most blissful illusion, could not create anything quite like this.

"This isn't an illusion?"

I would know if it were, wouldn't I?

"If anything is real, it is this."

Yes, I definitely would.

"Silly Gryffindor."

There are so many things I would like to tell you but cannot say.

"And I take pride in it."

Nobody is only black or white. Only you. White as the blinding light of the sun. White and warm. The rest of us are grey.


	17. Work

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Work**

Remus's timetable was full. So full that Severus barely had any time alone with him over the next weeks. Of course the Potions master was relieved that he had been so completely forgiven but now Remus's behaviour troubled him. The werewolf seemed awfully tired and sometimes Severus saw him fidget with stress when confronted with a large pile of parchment in front of him on the staff room table, waiting to be graded. "It is evil!" the werewolf assured him one day when they were sitting at the table opposite each other. "It's laughing at me!" He spoke in a paranoid whisper as if he didn't want the pile of homework to hear what he said and Severus felt himself grow a little worried about the man's sanity.

Assiduous as he was, Remus wanted to get his work done quickly yet properly, so as not to make the students or the Headmaster wait while keeping the quality of what he brought forth agreeable. In Severus's opinion, despite everything he had told the students while filling in, Remus's work was more than agreeable. He was so exact in his preparations that Severus thought that even if he put only half as much effort into his work as he did, he would still provide good quality. But the werewolf seemed so determined and eager to prove his teaching skills and that Albus hadn't made a mistake when he had appointed him, that nothing could convince him to relax a little.

He seemed very tired and Severus didn't know how much time it would take until he collapsed over his breakfast one day, fainting due to exhaustion. To the other teachers Remus didn't show his weary despair or his stressed helplessness, blaming his tiredness on the moon's cycle or his late-night reading habits, fooling most of them, to Severus, though, he admitted quite openly that he was having problems with his workload.

One Wednesday evening, when Severus had some time off, he decided to visit the werewolf in his office, longing for his closeness due to the little amount of time they had spent together since after the full moon. When he knocked on the door he didn't get an answer, after two more tries, though, he finally heard a grunt of admission and opened the door. He was shocked to see Remus slumped in his chair, forehead pressed onto his desk, which was a mess with papers and books and quills and ink pots, arms hanging loosely at his sides, his whole body limp. When Severus stepped closer the other raised his head and gave him a lopsided smile.

"How do you manage it?" he croaked in the most desperate voice Severus could imagine, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his forehead, dark rings under his eyes.

Severus raised an eyebrow and his mouth curled into a smirk. "I don't fall ill," he replied and folded his arms. He couldn't help but feel amused at the other's behaviour, when he slid down in his chair so that he was lying in it more than sitting.

"Never?" he asked shakily.

"Never," Severus affirmed truthfully, he couldn't recall even one occasion on which he had missed class. The Grindylow in the corner made an ugly screeching noise, sliding its long, thin fingers down over the glass of its tank.

The werewolf groaned again, burying his face in his hands. "Well, now, it's not as if I could do that," he mumbled from behind them and Severus helped him out of his chair to accompany him into his sitting room where he swished his wand, igniting flames in the fireplace. Once on the sofa Severus found himself almost immediately misused as a pillow. Remus laid his head onto his shoulder, leaning against him and put on a relieved and satisfied smile. Severus allowed it without protest, though he was rather surprised at the intimate gesture and watched him quietly, noticing that they hadn't touched like that in over a week. He could have sat there like that forever, just watching the werewolf doze on his shoulder, sitting in peace and silence, carefree and cosy. But soon Remus snapped out of his dozing and wanted to get back to work in a hectic hurry. Severus seized his arm and held him in place, glaring up at him with warning eyes.

"Rest for a while or you will spend a week in the hospital wing due to exhaustion. Your body, worn as it already is from the transformation, cannot take much more," he said in a firm and commanding voice. The other man looked from him to his office and back again, indecisive as to what he should do.

"But I have to finish –"

"That can wait!" Severus growled. He usually wasn't concerned with other people's health but this time it was different. Not quite without egoism. He wanted to spend more time with Remus and how could he do that if all the other had in mind was working himself into unconsciousness? Apart from that, his tired state worried him and he would feel guilty if the werewolf indeed collapsed over his work.

With a little hesitation, Remus joined him on the sofa again, rubbing his probably stinging eyes and inching closer to Severus until they were almost touching. It was raining outside, had been raining for days and probably wouldn't stop too soon. A typical November. The castle was cold, very cold, in autumn and winter and Severus froze almost constantly. He seemed to notice that fact even more while he wasn't with Remus, whose soothing warmth became more addictive by the day while the weather was growing colder and the stone walls were turning to ice. Even the dancing flames of a fire in the grate needed to burn for hours until they had heated a room and of course it couldn't compare to the werewolf's body heat.

Severus felt a pull inside of himself which seemed to tear him into the other man's direction. He was desperate to feel the warmth, touch its source and be filled by it. He glanced at the other who was looking rather miserable and saw his thin frame tremble. With stress or with cold, he couldn't say.

"I could help you," he offered in a low voice. "With your work."

At this the werewolf chuckled slightly. "Not that I don't appreciate your kind offer but I don't think that you would grade the way I do. The children would be shocked at all their bad marks."

A smirk passed over Severus's face. At least he had managed to cheer the werewolf up a little. The small smile curling Remus's lips was a reassuring sight. He wasn't at all expecting the hand on his leg when it appeared and the sudden heat sent his heart racing, making him start a little. The werewolf's golden eyes, misty with fatigue but just as piercing as ever found his own black tunnels.

"But you could count the points and write the marks onto the papers. Only if you promise to give them the marks I would give them of course," he said hoarsely and in an amused voice. Severus raised an eyebrow and the other continued, "I heard of your defaming my teaching skills and saying that I am giving too good marks, so don't give me that look!"

Severus shook his head. "Well, I think we agree that our ideas of a good homework differ a lot. But I would never manipulate your grading. It would be far too obvious if Potter dropped from full marks to none at all."

A broad smile spread over the other's worn features and it made him look so much younger. "Well then… maybe I could let you help me. But only if it isn't too much trouble for you. I'd hate you to neglect your own work only to help me," he said, suddenly frowning, moving his fingers on Severus's leg in an absent-minded caress. The Potions master suppressed a shiver and gave the werewolf a disbelieving look. "Don't worry your noble Gryffindor head. Like I said, I do not have any problem whatsoever handling my work."

Remus's eyes glittered a little when he leant in to seal Severus's lips with a short but grateful kiss. The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence disturbed only by the rain hammering against the windows and the rustling of parchment between Severus's fingers while he counted points and scratched them into the top right corners of the parchment with bright red ink, trying his best to imitate the werewolf's untidy handwriting.

When Remus had got ready to start grading again, Severus had stopped him with a firm hand and a silencing glare, which Remus had been too weak to fight in his tired state. Instead he had leant back and shuffled so close to Severus that their sides were touching, watching the Slytherin read and write, amused, but not in the slightest offended, by the rolling of his eyes every now and then when he read an extremely stupid sentence which Remus had actually given points for.

After a while Remus had again dozed off, his head resting on Severus's shoulder, his hand on the Potions master's leg. The werewolf's even breathing calmed Severus and he felt absolutely at peace and extremely comfortable, though a little nervous as usual, with the other man so close to him, sharing his warmth. Though it was exclusively Remus who did all the work, Severus was oddly pleased and afraid at the same time to feel that they were gradually getting closer.

When he had finished his or rather Remus's work, at about half past one in the morning, Severus laid the rolls of parchment onto the small table in front of the sofa in a neat stack, using his wand so he wouldn't wake the werewolf by shifting his position. When he glanced at the other's sleeping face he decided to stay a little longer and just watch him, wondering what he might be dreaming. He had wondered before if the werewolf had the same problem as himself, dreaming of him at night, waking in the morning feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. Well, Remus certainly looked like it. Severus noticed the silent smile on Remus's lips and his brow creased. If he were dreaming of him, he surely wouldn't smile like that, would he? Severus wondered what his own face looked like when dreaming of the werewolf.

His hand moved on its own, rising to Remus's pale cheek, fingers brushing the soft skin which felt like silk under his own. Remus stirred slightly and Severus hoped dearly that he wouldn't wake, now that he had finally fallen asleep. But the werewolf just shifted slightly, burying his face in the crook of Severus's neck. The Potions master just sat still, concentrating on Remus's breathing. He didn't understand how the other man could sleep so soundly beside him like that, it was something that Severus couldn't imagine. His natural mistrust and alertness wouldn't permit him to fall asleep when anyone else was in the room, especially when they were so close to him. He wondered whether it was the Gryffindor naivety that made Remus so careless.

When Severus raised his eyes he saw their reflection in the dark window, only the raindrops on the glass disturbed the picture of them, sitting so close together on the sofa. Severus frowned. That picture would surely have made it onto the front page of every newspaper in wizarding Britain. He could barely trust his own eyes, observing their peaceful sight. Just a few weeks ago he would never have believed that possible. Now, although it looked strange, it felt right. Though he still didn't like to see his own appearance and rather fixed his eyes on the peaceful form of the werewolf, looking graceful even when sleeping.

It was well past three in the morning when Severus finally made to leave, after almost nodding off several times, overwhelmed by fatigue, his head resting on Remus's soft hair. He moved the werewolf carefully to one side to be able to get up and straightened his robe, turning to leave when he heard a sleepy voice behind him.

"Sev'r's… wh're you go'n'?"

Severus looked down at Remus who was squinting up at him, the firelight too bright for his tired eyes. Without hesitation, the Slytherin shed the outer layer of his robe, covering Remus with it before he pushed him gently down into a lying position.

"Nowhere. Just sleep on, Remus," he whispered in a very low voice, which he hoped was soothing instead of cold. The werewolf pulled the garment tightly around his thin body and settled down into the cushions lying on the sofa. In no time at all, he was asleep again and Severus sighed with relief. He couldn't sleep beside him, he had to leave, otherwise he wouldn't get any rest at all that night. Though resentful, he left the werewolf's rooms with a last glance at Remus's reflection. He was glad when he had left all the cold corridors behind him and arrived in his bedroom after what seemed to have been an endless walk on weak and tired legs. He didn't even bother with undressing, he just fell onto his bed and a second later sleep engulfed him.

On the next morning after breakfast, Remus shuffled shyly into his office, the robe wrapped in his arms, his cheeks slightly blushed.

"Thanks, Severus," he said, holding the garment out to the tired Potions master who took it from him with a curt nod, concealing his embarrassment about the caring gesture of the night before perfectly. At least the werewolf looked recreated and less worn than all the days before. "For the papers, too."

Severus shook his head, gathering up his own papers for his first lesson. "Not at all. Glad I could help," he muttered and was positively surprised when he felt Remus's arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Severus still didn't really know how to touch the other in such a situation but the werewolf didn't seem to mind his passiveness at all, apparently knowing that he was pleased by his touch.

A fleeting brush of lips against lips was all Severus received before the other man bid him a 'very nice day' and set off to his classroom, leaving Severus behind in unsatisfied frustration. During the next days the only occasions on which they met alone were their patrolling nights which were coincidentally the same (Severus suspected a greater plan of Albus's behind that). The first time they met while patrolling, Severus startled Remus, who had been humming to himself in absent-minded or maybe even bored cheerfulness, into almost cursing him, when he stepped out from behind a corner, tapping the other's back.

They ended up walking the corridors together, starting every now and then when they thought they had been seen, usually when Remus was just about to touch Severus in one way or another, preventing them from touching at all. It made Remus chuckle and Severus sulk. In the end, they said goodbye at the foot of the stairs between the second and the third floor, Remus ascending, Severus descending. Just before Remus had turned completely away from Severus, the Potions master leant in a little in a subtle gesture of expecting a… well, a good-night kiss (it had cost him an enormous effort both to admit to it and to lean in as if automatically). He grimaced at the thought and was glad Remus couldn't see his face in the shadows of the armours standing around them.

He could see Remus's face, though, as it lit up for a moment before a warm smile replaced the surprise in his features. The werewolf stepped closer, cupping Severus's cheeks with his hands, and kissed him. It was short but satisfying and Severus walked down into the dungeons light-footedly. He scolded himself on the way for being so delighted by a kiss trying to force his grumpiness back into his body, failing miserably.

The other nocturnal meetings weren't so void of affection maybe due to the fact that more time had passed between their last private encounter or because the werewolf had let his carefulness drop due to the reassuring reactions to his affections from Severus's side. Severus found himself being pressed into the cold stone wall by an overly enthusiastic werewolf, who had just appeared out of nowhere, pressing his soft lips against the Slytherin's own.

Not that Severus would complain. He just didn't feel quite familiar with such intimacy yet. It was still a mystery to him and sometimes he wished he were the one who was more sure of himself in that particular field. Remus seemed to act on instinct, automatically and always correctly, while Severus thought every move over and needed to make an effort to even so much as hug the other back. He was still rather averse to taking any form of initiative when it came to physical closeness, feeling insufficient and somewhat clumsy, never having been close to anyone in years and having got used to loneliness and distance. Not that he didn't know what he _wanted_ to do, he just didn't dare do it, afraid the other wouldn't like it. He didn't want to try anything out, he wanted to be _good_ at it immediately. Since that attitude prevented him from doing anything at all, of course, it made Severus angry at himself.

He couldn't bear showing a weakness to the other, he wanted to look strong and almighty. He usually managed that when in his own métier, the potion-making. He liked Remus's look of awe when he showed him his extraordinary skill. But he didn't want the other to laugh at him or tell him off because he had touched him in the wrong place or at the wrong time. On top of that, abandoning his stiff and cold posture was almost impossible since he _was_ stiff and cold. He wasn't used to anyone liking – loving – him. How would he know what to do in such a case? Not even as a child had he experienced an overly large amount of affection therefore the werewolf's flood of it was too much for him to handle. Though, Severus suspected, he was still holding most of his affection back, due to Severus's reserved demeanour.

Severus wanted to leave the physical work to Remus. The werewolf seemed to know how far he could go and when he should touch Severus, anyway. If Severus did anything he would only spoil everything, like last time. Just as he sometimes feared he would with his words. He had to bite his tongue quite often to prevent saying very mean things to the other, which he didn't really mean to say but used as a defence mechanism. Just the other day he had called the werewolf a "flee-bitten puppy" during a fight in the staff room. He had regretted the insult immediately upon noticing the other's hurt look, but he hadn't taken it back. He was too proud for that. The fight hadn't even been that important. Just the usual differences in teaching habits and attitudes. Severus had said Remus were too soft, Remus had claimed Severus were too hard and it had developed into quite a duel of arguments which Severus had lost and desperately finished with the sentence, "Well, of course a flee-bitten puppy like you would think so!"

It had just been the usual Snapish insult, an automatism that Severus could barely stop once he was enraged, but he shouldn't have used it on Remus, he knew. They were… close. And if he wanted it to stay that way – which he did – he would have to try and hold his tongue in such situations, even if he couldn't admit he was wrong. But obviously he had been forgiven this time, since he had an armful of werewolf and lips that were burning with the other man's heat.

All Severus could do right now was to cup Remus's jaw with his hands, holding his face firmly, indulging in the other's scent and taste, clinging to him desperately. Although he hated the feeling of helplessness and the need of being guided, cursing himself for them every time they parted without him having really done anything but kiss back, he enjoyed those moments. Such kisses had been given to him by the werewolf more often recently and while patrolling, Severus even expected the other man to turn up suddenly with a smile and a "Good night, Severus" only to pull him into the shadows and press their lips together. He didn't grow used to it, though. It was like Remus had said about his rooms a few weeks before: if he took it for granted, maybe it would disappear and leave him with greater feelings of loss than if he looked upon it as something special and rare. As if his appreciation were the condition for his… happiness. As if it were bad luck to get used to it. Silly, really.

Though they were passionate kisses, they were still painfully tender. So tender that Severus wondered if it was really him kissing the werewolf or if it was some divine entity possessing him. He couldn't believe that he was even capable of so gentle a touch. Dumbledore would say that it was the Gryffindor influence. Severus knew that only the werewolf could make him behave that way, it was his soft guidance which enabled him to indulge in the intimacy. Sometimes he even thought that if it weren't Remus he was kissing, then he would be a complete failure at it. Somehow the other wizard had a special magic about him. One that even made Severus forget his initial fears of rejection, pain and loss. At least when he was together with him.

Severus's mind was still troubled by fears of course. He realised one day that actually he clang to those fears because they guaranteed that he wouldn't be surprised if one day the werewolf left him. It wouldn't be so painful then, because he would have been expecting it. Severus knew that Remus wouldn't like that attitude but he couldn't change it easily. He was quite certain that one day the other would be fed up with his foul character and leave to find someone better suited, even though he believed him that at the moment his feelings were genuine. Severus just couldn't believe that a person like Remus would really want to be with _him_.

Usually Remus would stay with Severus in the shadows for a while longer after the kiss, arms around his neck, head resting against his shoulder, letting himself be held firmly, their equally quick breathing slowing down together, heart beat against heart beat. It was maddeningly soothing when they stood like that, Remus whispering so softly that Severus didn't even catch most of his words, and could only enjoy the raspy sound of his voice. It made Severus's brow crease when his eyes were fixed on Remus's retreating back, while he thought about what in Merlin's name the werewolf saw in him, what he gave to Remus in return for all that pleasure. Nothing, really, he reasoned, ambling back down into the dungeons in the early morning.

'You make me feel special.' The words still echoed in Severus's head and he didn't know if that was all it needed for the werewolf to… to fall in love with him. In love. It still sent tingles through his body when he thought about the confession. And as usual he had not been able to reply, had been passive as he was at their every meeting. He could slap himself for his embarrassed scruples. He wasn't capable of showing the other open affection, not really. He responded as well as he could manage when Remus took the first step but even then it seemed to him as if he were trying to speak Hindi although he didn't know the language. He was scared of pronouncing a word wrongly, saying 'leave' instead of 'stay' and he was afraid of getting the word 'stay' right. Afraid of this extreme closeness.

He fell into bed for a short rest before his lessons but his mind was full of the Gryffindor and his lips were still burning. Love. He didn't know what to think of it. And Remus obviously didn't expect an answer. Severus couldn't give him one, either, so he was glad the other didn't demand one. The Potions master just didn't know what he felt. What he should call it. He didn't have much experience with positive emotions and actually he didn't really want to give it a name. He already felt dependent on the werewolf without considering the feeling inside him as love. He feared that four-letter word. If he never said it, it couldn't be used against him. If he didn't say it, he wouldn't show Remus how very dependent he really was on him. If he didn't say it, it wouldn't hurt so much.

Severus didn't know if what he felt could be described as love. He liked to paraphrase it. It was definitely a deep affection. And they were both confidants to each other. Severus didn't like spending too much time without the werewolf, he made him feel the most extraordinary things that he was sure had never even so much as passed through his body, and he longed for his touch in every waking minute, and of course in his dreams. Not necessarily physical touch but emotional as well. Or actually, both on equal parts. Their relationship had been built on a very emotional base, after all. He appreciated Remus's intellect and the meaningfulness of their conversations. And he was certainly scared of losing him. He needed him. He just couldn't say if that was good.

Was that what Remus called love? Severus just didn't know. And he didn't want to know. Maybe one name was too trivial to describe all this chaos inside him. Both pleasurable and disturbing. All he knew was that his feelings for the werewolf and their whole connection could not be described with one word. They were all words and no word.

Nevertheless it felt amazing to know that Remus indeed loved him, because he knew that the Gryffindor did see love as the highest of feelings and the strongest as he had stated himself. When he said he loved him, then he did mean it, they weren't just empty words, Severus was sure of that. And it was a singular pleasure to know that he loved him. That he loved him because he was himself, not because of some lie. That he hadn't recoiled even though he knew more about him than most people, more about his terrible crimes than the rest of the world (except Albus). It made Severus purely happy every time he thought about it. And happiness was a feeling that he would almost have forgotten had the werewolf not reminded him of its existence.

Still, he couldn't tell him any of this. Didn't trust him enough to do so. His tongue would be tied if he tried. He was hopeless at relationships because he couldn't expose himself to others, couldn't tell them things that they could hurt him with. His rational mind told him that Remus Lupin would not do any such thing, but deep down he was still so damaged and his walls were still that much intact that he couldn't trust him. It would cost himself a lot more work still to change that fact since he did not want to leave it all to the werewolf lest he would give up at some point, too exhausted to go on. But Severus agreed with Remus on that one point: the effort would be worth the result. Hopefully.

While Severus was lying on his back, staring at the canopy over his bed, trying to see through the many layers of stone between him and Remus, he touched his fingers to his lips, wondering how long this state of blissful togetherness would linger. Hopefully forever, he thought, when sleep finally got the better of him, sweeping his consciousness away into some distant sphere where "forever" was only the blink of an eye.


	18. Actions

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Actions**

It seemed to Severus like no time at all until the next full moon arrived. The Wolfsbane Potion had been brewed and become a monthly routine just as delivering it to Remus's office had. The werewolf had seemed rather nervous all week and Severus had been surprised at his clinging to him on the first four days of the daily Potion drinking. His arms around him had tightened from day to day and the minutes his hugs had lasted had lengthened to almost an hour before letting him leave by the fourth day (if one could even call them hugs since Severus had the impression they were rather a desperate holding onto a safety line). Severus had allowed it, and his own hand, not holding the goblet, had been laid on the tense back in a helpless and hopefully reassuring manner every time. On the fifth day, though, the werewolf hadn't touched the Potions master at all anymore, just drained the gobletful of potion and sent him on his way again.

This month, his behaviour was extreme and Severus wondered what made him react in a stronger way on some full moons and in a weaker one on others. Maybe it was the strain he had made his own body and mind suffer and maybe, Severus grew cold at the thought, maybe it was his fault having reacting so furiously on the last full moon.

On the sixth day, Remus had received his Potion in the staff room, at work, making Severus sit down opposite him to spent some time watching him knock over his tea twice and almost spilling the Potion thrice, before his next lesson. On the day of the full moon, Severus brought the goblet into Remus's sitting room, having been granted access after saying the password. Remus looked up at him over his shoulder, indicating his hand toward the table to signal that Severus should leave the goblet there. After Severus had complied, he folded his arms, considering the werewolf closely, towering over him impressively. The other man took the goblet into his hands and peered up at the Slytherin expectantly and even a little afraid as if thinking that he would be getting another angry snap from him.

"You are awfully quiet, Remus," Severus said silkily, his low voice so smooth that it simply _had_ to caress Remus's ears. The werewolf smiled weakly, taking a sip from his Potion.

"'m sorry," he croaked then, lowering his dull amber eyes.

Severus rolled his own and heaved a sigh. He hadn't even got a "good day, Severus" today. Not even only a breathy "Severus". He tried to respect the other's wish to stay away from him and he certainly didn't want to pressure him while he was obviously feeling bad but it annoyed him nevertheless. Especially because the other man apparently wanted him to leave, draining his goblet in one gulp, setting it back down on the table and resuming his staring into the fire, which he had abandoned when Severus had arrived.

"Well," he said crossly, picking up the empty goblet, "if that is all you have to say…"

He turned to leave, then, angry at himself for being angry at Remus, who probably couldn't help being so lethargic at all. When he was back at the door, wondering what exactly Remus had found so worth clinging to in the first days, the Gryffindor's voice stopped him from leaving.

"Severus," it said from behind his back, making him turn around with a face hopefully void of every expression. "I feel comfortable with you."

Severus stared at the other for a long, confused moment until he noticed the absolutely unmistakable order to leave in his eyes, mixed with regret. Severus nodded curtly and said, "Have a good night, Remus." Then he left, the werewolf's grateful eyes on his back. Maybe that had been Remus's way of assuring him that it really had nothing to do with him, quite the contrary. If that had been it, then he had succeeded. 'I feel comfortable with you', as Severus thought more thoroughly about it, the sentence made his head steam and his face flush. The werewolf was so annoyingly capable of flustering him.

When the Potions master entered Remus's rooms again in the morning at about eleven, Invigorating Draught in his hand, wand at the ready, just in case, he heard the other's soft breathing, coming from the bedroom. Severus put on a fire on his way into the dark room; the door creaked when he pushed it open, drawing back the curtains before the windows with a silent and less forceful spell than the last time he had been there. He walked to the bed, bowing over the werewolf's sleeping form, saying in a low voice, "Wake up, late riser."

Remus didn't stir which worried Severus a bit. His eyes swept over him and glimpsed an exposed neck and shoulder, the silky skin tempting him to press his lips to it. Instead of giving in to that urge, Severus laid a hand onto the other man's arm, buried under the covers, and shook him a little, making him groan in an annoyed tone. Remus turned round to face the Slytherin, squinting up at him with sleepy eyes.

"Sev'rus," he mumbled cheerfully, cupping the hand on his arm with his own. "G'morn'."

Severus relaxed when he saw Remus's smile and a mild expression snuck onto his face. He put his wand away and removed the stopper from the Draught. Remus tried to sit up but failed, his arms giving way under his weight. He chuckled slightly, though Severus could see the pain clearly written in his face. The Potions master hesitated and after a fidgeting movement of his arm, he sat down on the bed beside the werewolf, laying his arm round his shoulders to steady him. Remus beamed at him when Severus lifted the phial to his lips and he laid his hand over the Slytherin's wrist. The Potions master felt the strength coming back to the werewolf's body but the Gryffindor just stayed in his arms, resting his head on Severus's chest with closed eyes and a happy smile. Severus's heart pounded very fast suddenly when he noticed that Remus actually snuggled up to him, trying to make it look as if he were feeling weak. Or maybe he was feeling weak and sought shelter. But either way, Severus was _not_ the type of man one would snuggle up to.

"Severus," his raspy voice said and the Potions master snapped out of his thoughts. "Stop the brooding." Severus met his golden eyes, much less dull now, and noticed that his body had stiffened. He tried to relax but started again when Remus wrapped his arm around his stomach with a very broad smile and a slight twitch in his face, probably from the pain that shot through his body when he moved. "May I stay like this?"

Severus was startled by the question and a little uncomfortable with the close contact but he leant back against the headboard, without making a comment, in desperate need of something to steady himself with. The intimacy of the situation struck him with a sudden force that made him realise that the werewolf had asked him – Severus Snape of all people! – to stay in his bed with him when he was so weak and defenceless that he could barely sit up. Remus's trusting him to such an extent was… moving. Severus, though oddly flattered by the gesture, could not take the intensity and needed to distract them both from it by doing something he usually never did. Something meaningless which would hopefully relax the tension of importance that hung over the two men. Small talk.

"Ravenclaw won the match," he said and felt Remus shift his head on his chest.

"Then Gryffindor still has a chance?" he asked with a grin audible in his voice. Severus scowled.

"Well… to be fair–"

"Fair?" Remus cut in, amused.

Severus ignored him, due to the fact that the other couldn't see him glaring. "Yes, Gryffindor still has a chance. That must make you happy."

Remus chuckled and then coughed, causing Severus to sit up and steady him awkwardly, while he was holding his chest, obviously in pain. When his breathing had calmed again Remus sank down against Severus with an exhausted and shaky sigh. His head rested against Severus's neck, his lips touching the Slytherin's skin, his rattling breath sending shivers down Severus's spine.

"Thanks for being here," Remus croaked and rubbed his nose against the Potions master's jaw affectionately. Severus tensed a little, wanting to slip away from him. He would have hexed any other person for the mere attempt of hugging him. And though Remus was definitely different, somehow the amount of affection was a little too big to receive it all at once, even though it was quite pleasurable.

Suddenly, when he slid his hand down the other's arm, his fingers left the fabric of the Muggle tee-shirt and touched his skin. The sensation incited a tingle in his fingers. Even the scars marring the werewolf's skin, didn't disturb its softness. Severus's own skin was calloused, rough, sallow, due to so many years of potion-making and the accidents accompanying it: explosions, cauterisation, poisonous fumes; compared to the delicately handsome werewolf his whole person was rather ugly and unlikely to be desired by the other. Severus stroked his fingers over Remus's arm carefully, as if afraid that his fingers would bruise him if he pressed too hard. It was a singular sensation, touching the scarred skin which he knew was never exposed to anyone else, always carefully hidden under long robes and a high collar. He never wanted to stop, but addictions were known to break people.

The even breathing against his neck told Severus that Remus had relaxed again. Immediately the tension inside of him ceased and he took a deep breath, laying the werewolf back down onto his pillow. Looking down at him, the Potions master realised that the more he indulged in the _relationship_, the further away seemed the exit and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to lose sight of it. It was dangerous not to know any way out, especially when the man who was in the same room with you knew exactly how to destroy you. Severus did feel comfortable with the fact that Remus knew him, even those parts of him that he hadn't known himself, those parts that wanted to be held by the werewolf, soft and fragile, and of course his dearest possession, hidden from all eyes except those golden orbs; his soul. At the same time, though, it was a threatening knowledge that he would never allow to be passed on to anyone else. He got up from the bed and made to leave but stopped when he reached the door. He felt the golden eyes on his back like he would have felt the Dark Lord's wand directed at him.

"Why are you leaving?" the hoarse voice said, sounding disappointed and just a little reproachful and Severus turned, defensive.

"I still have other things to do. It's not as if it were my duty to stay here holding your hand all day!" he snapped coldly. The werewolf looked hurt and the Slytherin immediately regretted his harsh tone. He couldn't change so drastically, though, into a hopeless romantic, he didn't have a feeling for it. And he couldn't deny that he didn't think much of romantic acts. They were ridiculous and pointless, he would never give the werewolf roses for Valentine's Day or any such rubbish, what would that prove?

He was no man to engage in such silly affections and pointless acts as watching over someone's sleep. Watching him sleep was different. He didn't want the werewolf to know, though, that he admired his every outline in an awe that couldn't be found within him at any other moment. Or that his touches made his brain melt, so that he couldn't think clearly. Severus couldn't control himself very well in his presence. Most of all when he was snuggling up to him in an almost undressed state. Merlin, the fabric of that tee-shirt was so thin! Severus didn't like the disarming effect Remus had on him. He wanted to be self-confident instead of self-conscious. But he wasn't. And the fact that the Gryffindor was aware of it, aware of the power he had over him, made him angry.

Remus turned away, sitting up and hugging his knees to his torso. "Well, I'm sorry to have been holding you up," he muttered in a voice that pained Severus thoroughly. And he knew that what made him even angrier was that he hurt the other all the time, couldn't control his tongue, stop it from saying something nasty. He couldn't show the werewolf that he cared. Which he did. Absolutely. He didn't know how. Didn't know the words. Couldn't learn it from the other. He was a completely hopeless case, only capable of defensive nastiness but never of the obvious affection the werewolf gave to him. He was so used to hiding his every emotion, especially the positive ones, the dangerous ones, so used to either feeling nothing at all or only things that had their source in hatred, that he had lost the capability to show what he was feeling at the moment.

Unworthy was what he felt like. Unworthy of Remus's efforts and especially his love. He hated the feeling of insecurity that the whole situation of their relationship gave him. He wanted it to work, needed it to, and at the same time he was only so far away from shattering it, like he had shattered his glass cabinets, angry and torn between saving his reputation, his sanity, his soul and placing them all into Remus's gentle hands, risking to be disappointed, hurt, left, destroyed, to receive Remus, all of him, so voluntarily offered. He knew that if he didn't make a decision, the werewolf would never be satisfied, giving so much and receiving so little, and maybe, eventually, he would turn away from him. There was a chaos within Severus that he wished could be soothed.

"You should rest anyway," he muttered, milder this time.

"Can you at least stay until I'm asleep again?" Remus asked with pleading eyes. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked, folding his arms. "You're not a child."

"I feel safe when you're there…" the other wizard said quietly. They were words that Severus would never have been able to form, would have been embarrassed to utter and Remus said them with such a seriousness and firmness in his voice that it made the Slytherin feel warm and proud of himself. So he drew up a chair close to Remus's bed and watched him lie down again, letting him take his cold hand into his warm one.

"Why did you present your soul to me all those weeks ago?" Severus asked meeting the golden eyes which seemed so grateful for his decision to stay. "I could easily have squashed it." He didn't add what he was thinking to himself, _although I'm such a git, even now._

Remus smiled slightly, squeezing his hand weakly. "Because I trust you." The irrational answer was a surprise and didn't explain anything. But at the same time it explained everything and Severus felt strangely… confidant. It reminded him of why he had decided to let all this happen in the first place. Remus was special, he was healing to him, understanding, challenging, forgiving, knowing, loving and all that was definitely worth his troubles and won over the doubts which the werewolf had long ago discarded. In the end, Severus watched over Remus's sleep for a good four hours before returning to his lonely dungeon.

On the next day, Severus entered Remus's bedroom at twelve o'clock, sitting down on that same chair, watching the werewolf's relaxed features as he slept. He didn't wake him, just waited until half an hour later the pale lids fluttered open and the sleepy golden eyes came to rest on him with a surprised blink. Remus pushed himself up on his knees, wincing with pain, leant forward, and placed his hands on Severus's shoulders to gently kiss him, his slight stubble scratching at Severus's chin. They were both panting when he pulled back, falling into the sheets with painful exhaustion.

Severus bent over him to kiss his lips again, reassured by the soft fingers coming to rest in the nape of his neck. He smoothed back Remus's hair and the werewolf smiled happily, apparently delighted by the gesture. "You are here again, Severus?" he said quietly and Severus nodded.

"Do you still have any of that tea left? Or did your multiple guests drink it all?" he asked thinking of Albus with annoyance and of Potter with contempt.

"I haven't shared the tea with anyone but you, Severus. I like the fact that we have something that belongs only to us," Remus replied and made Severus's indifferent expression slip from his face for a second or two. It was a very… romantic thing to say. He scowled. It sounded so sappy. And why did it make him so happy? Good grief! He was pathetic.

"I'll make some."

The werewolf was up and about again in no time, ready for teaching on Monday. In the next days and weeks Remus asked Severus to help him with his work more often and Severus was inclined to comply. They spent hours and hours in the werewolf's rooms, mostly with Remus talking and Severus listening to his soothingly hoarse voice. Now and then he would touch the Potions master, a hand to his shoulder an arm to his own, a forehead to his temple, a nose to his cheek, and the most thrilling, a knee to his own. All in such a very natural and casual manner that Severus felt as if they had been doing this for decades.

Usually when Remus had finished his grading, he would shuffle close to Severus to watch him count the points instead of helping him with it. He seemed to take special pleasure in Severus's grumpy grimaces when he had yet another ten-point homework from the know-it-all Hermione Granger in his hands or read another praising comment on Potter's practical skill beside his eight point written work. It was not the work, though, which interested Severus most, it was Remus's _presence_. He would lay his arms round Severus's neck while he was still counting and cling to him for a very long time, until he noticed, due to the Slytherin's uneasy shifting, that he had intruded for too long a time into Severus's personal space. Remus would sometimes fall into an endless and amusing monologue, when he talked about how much he liked being at the school and educating the children. Really _educating_ them, not the waste of time his predecessors had practiced. He seemed eager to teach them everything he knew while he had the chance to, in order to prepare them for what was inevitably to come.

When Remus started to rant on about the incapability of that 'blond glamour boy', not even teaching the children the easiest shielding spell, but demanding from them to know his favourite colour, Severus silenced him by turning his head as if to meet his lips in the middle of a sentence, stopping an inch away and giving him a look, signaling to him that he was not in the slightest interested in how the students were supposed to survive the next war. Remus, though startled and maybe a little disappointed, got the message and rested his forehead against Severus's with a sigh.

"You know, I just think if we had had proper teachers in our time at school, teachers who had been _there_… then maybe many would still be alive… Peter for example," he muttered with deep regret in his voice.

Severus turned back to the papers in his lap. To him it wouldn't have made a difference. As a determined Death-Eater-to-be, he had eagerly studied the Dark Arts ever since he had got to know of their existence. And in his time as a Death Eater he had learnt how to defend himself, how to survive, hoping dearly that one day he would face Potter and Black again to show them who was superior. It would have been him, he was sure of it, though he regretted not having the proof he had wanted.

"Don't you have anyone worth putting a picture of onto the wall?" the werewolf asked, sitting back against the armrest on the other side of the sofa. Severus looked at him, bewildered. They were in the dungeons today, Remus having paid him a surprise visit, arms full of parchment and eyes full of helpless despair. It was true, there were no pictures of the Potions master's family in his rooms and he had no one whom he would consider a friend anymore nowadays. Apart from that, he wasn't the type to display whom he held dear even if he had had anyone like that. He was the type who displayed his achievements. Remus had stared in awe at the many prizes and awards from the ESMP he had spotted in Severus's glass-cabinets, polished and proudly put into a position where everyone visiting him could see them clearly. It had made Severus smirk smugly when Remus had complimented him on his extraordinary skill.

"No," Severus said simply and tried to put order into the many rolls of parchment scattered over his table. "Neither have you, as it seems."

Remus knew immediately what he meant and put on a sad smile. "Well, I do but…" He hesitated and clasped his hands together. "You see, I have them all in a box under my bed. I could look at them if I wanted to. They are there."

Severus folded his arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "But you don't look at them?"

The werewolf shook his head. "It… it would be too painful."

"Ah, yes, I think I understand," Severus said very seriously. "If I had to look at a bunch of blasted Potters all the time, my eyes would hurt, too."

The comment made Remus laugh very hard. There is only a very fine line between laughing oneself to tears and actually crying. And very suddenly, Remus had crossed it. Severus saw the tears for a split second before the delicate hands covered the Gryffindor's face in a desperate attempt to conceal them, his stifled sobs giving him away. His body shook with grief and Severus stared at him helplessly, shocked by the effect his joke had had on the other man. This was one of the rare moments in which Remus Lupin lost control.

Severus reached out a hand, pulling it back very quickly, insecurely, before it had even touched the crying werewolf. The trembling shoulders made him ache inside and he looked at his hands desperately. What did you do when someone else cried? He wanted to do something. He didn't want to always be told or shown what to do or how to treat Remus. He wanted to satisfy the werewolf even if he didn't know how. He would have to rely on his instincts for once and they told him to take the other man into his arms.

When Severus moved close to Remus and pulled him into a tight embrace the sobs were disrupted by a soft noise of surprise until the thin arms found their way round the Potions master's chest and the Gryffindor pressed his wet face into the crook of Severus's neck.

He didn't know any soothing words so he kept quiet until Remus chose to speak, his voice shaky with sobs and emotion, and what he said was very surprising indeed. Severus had thought that he was crying because his friends were gone. But in truth there was much more to his hiding their photos under his bed.

"Th-they didn't tr-ust me, ei-either! I wasn't e-ven t-told of their hi-hiding p-lace. The who-whole Order thought I w-was the spy! I have been h-hated and mis-mistrusted so often, but the people wh-who knew me b-best, who cl-aimed to be m-my friends! You d-don't know how painf-ful that i-is!"

Indeed, Severus didn't know. His whole life he had been trusted by the people whom he had wanted to be trusted by. His 'friends' at school, the Malfoys, the Dark Lord, Dumbledore. Although especially the latter had had no real reason to trust him, even though he had been the only one ever knowing the complete truth about him and never being told lies by him. Severus knew of course that Remus had been completely shut out of important decisions, mistrusted by Albus and, yes, even his friends. The Order of the Phoenix had known about a traitor in their rows and Albus had been sure that it was someone close to the Potters, since the Dark Lord knew every one of their movements, which Severus himself kept Dumbledore informed of. The suspicions had rested with Remus, the werewolf, the only one, it seemed, who would be capable of such an act. So his friends had distanced themselves from him more and more.

Severus had believed it, too, after all, had wanted to believe it, until only a few weeks before. But he hadn't known him, had never been close to him. Had only grudgingly accused him of being a traitor, not because he was a werewolf. It was difficult to comprehend now, how his friends and Albus had come up with the idea.

The shaking of the body in his arms ceased a little and he felt Remus struggling to sit up. He let him go and watched quietly when he wiped his eyes. "It would have been so easy to change sides. With all the promises he made. But I would never have been able to become a traitor. I loved them, and I am not like that…" the werewolf glanced at Severus with bloodshot eyes and the Slytherin averted his own. Not like that. Not like he was.

"Ironic, isn't it? Their best friend betraying them? They paid for their wrong evaluation," Severus said coldly, feeling angry because it grieved the werewolf so. But it only made Remus's tears flow again.

"Don't say such cruel things, Severus!" he cried. "I never wanted them to die! They didn't deserve that – and poor Harry! I would just have wanted to talk to them one last time, to ask why they suspected me, if there was a better reason than my being a werewolf…"

"Probably not," said Severus and took hold of Remus's hand. "But when they died, they knew that you were loyal to them." It wasn't much of a comfort but Remus nodded silently, squeezing Severus's hand.

"When I lost them, it was the most painful experience in my life. I miss them, even Sirius, the way he was when we were young," he whispered. "It was almost as if I had lost them twice when I found out that they had not trusted me anymore. As if the friendship I loved so much had been a lie all along, as if it had only been pity and pretence."

The pain in his voice was difficult to bear and Severus wished he had the words to ease it, to make him forget it. But he didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say? That they hadn't meant to hurt him? That war changed people and turned friends against each other? Remus knew all that and still he was hurt, and not unfoundedly so. He was the one person who had never given anyone a reason to believe that he would join the Dark Lord, it would have been unwise of him to do so, since he had been accepted and respected in the rows of the Order, other than among Death Eaters. Well, at least on the surface. He had been _allowed_ to be with them. It was hard not to think that he had again been judged by his lycanthropy. Severus wondered how the man managed to stay so good-hearted and trusting.

"Severus," the werewolf said tentatively and it startled the Slytherin since usually Remus wasn't insecure. "You and I… is this real? Do you mean it?"

Severus didn't look at him at first. He wasn't sure what to answer, since he didn't know what exactly the other man meant, the situations could hardly be compared. Did he care that he was a werewolf? No, not in that sense. Did he think that he was a traitor? Not anymore. Was he serious about whatever this relationship was? Yes, definitely. It wasn't a lie. Actually, Remus and he were the most honest and sincere thing that he had ever experienced. And he did mean it when he said that it was precious and important to him.

He turned to meet the golden eyes, still swimming in tears and nodded, deciding that words were too trivial now. Remus smiled heartbreakingly at that, giving him one of his most seldom declarations, "I love you, Severus."

It left the Potions master speechless as ever and his wish to respond something must have been displayed in his eyes since the werewolf touched his cheek with feathery fingers and said, "It is your actions that show me how much you care, Severus, not your words."

And though Severus had not the slightest idea which actions he might mean, it was a very reassuring sentence, taking so much pressure off him that he felt as though a whole mountain had been lifted off his shoulders. He pressed his face into the werewolf's hand and when their lips brushed and he tasted the salty tears on the other's skin he felt how time stopped once more.


	19. Of Love

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: I know, it's quite fluffy... and Christmas is long past but... I hope you enjoy this chapter, nonetheless. The two of them gradually becoming closer and closer to each other... (Why do wizards celebrate Christmas, anyway?)

**Of Love**

It was Severus's least favourite time of the year. Christmas. It was the last week of term and everywhere in the castle stood those ridiculous trees with their ridiculous lights and the ridiculous mistletoes hung from every doorframe so that the Potions master had to pass through them swiftly before anyone of the staff could get the idea of kissing him or making jokes about someone kissing him. It was quite annoying. Everyone was jolly and the snow outside gave them an especially sappy mood so close to the 'feast of love'. A feast which glorified family to such a disgusting extent couldn't impress the Potions master who had never believed in family. Severus had long banned the house-elves from decorating his rooms, under the threat of giving them clothing, but others hadn't. And by 'others' he meant Remus who even seemed to encourage them.

The last time he had been to his rooms for a cup of tea, he had been confronted with a felt million of coloured lights on a Christmas tree, an old Muggle-radio playing Christmas songs and _live_ fairies soaring around his head like those in Flitwick's classroom. Instead of a cup of tea, Remus had handed him a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream (had he really believed that Severus would drink any such thing?) and offered him a sugar cane from a bowl filled with them. Severus had declined with a glare, setting the cup down, and looked around the room with a disgusted expression. Those crazy Gryffindors.

In the end, the werewolf's obsessive decoration had had a nice side-effect. While waiting for him in the doorway to his sitting room, Severus hadn't even noticed the mistletoe over his head and when Remus had joined him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he had taken Severus's hands into his own and looked up at the plant. A split second after the Potions master had followed his gaze with scowling realisation dawning on his face, he had received his very first mistletoe-kiss while magical snow, sailing down upon them both, had caught in Remus's brown-grey hair and melted on his mellow skin in quite a pretty fashion.

Maybe, Severus had thought, feeling Remus's gentle hands on his face, tasting the cocoa on his tongue and smelling the distinct scent of cinnamon all about him, maybe not all Christmas traditions are that bad. Though he would never have admitted that the foolishly romantic gesture had moved him deep down. When they had broken apart, Severus had kept his eyes shut for another few seconds, licking his lips, trying to store the feeling away, remember it in every detail to be able to think of it when he wanted to, until he had opened them to Remus's beaming pools of gold, stirred with unconcealed emotion. Who would have believed that anyone would be willing to stand under a mistletoe with Severus Snape and that they would live to tell the tale? He had made Remus swear that the story would never leave his rooms and the other had laughed heartily, assuring him that his lips were sealed.

Sitting in the staff room, Severus thought about how he had flicked away the snowflakes in the werewolf's hair, how he had traced the soft line of his jaw with his fingers. Unfortunately, the rest of the werewolf's rooms was just as terribly and ridiculously decorated as his office which had let Severus's mood drop enormously and very suddenly allowing him only to glower at Remus's cheerful face, making the werewolf laugh so hard that he had fallen off the sofa and leant against Severus's leg. The Slytherin had perfectly concealed the thrill the other's head on his knee and the sound of his hoarse laughter had given him.

Surprisingly, other than Albus and Minerva, Remus didn't try to convince him of the beauty of the feast. He seemed to respect Severus's aversion to such sappy rituals and had even asked him for permission to give him a present. The Slytherin had agreed reluctantly and Remus had assured him that he didn't want anything in return. As far as Severus remembered he had never really received a present. As a small child maybe but not as an adolescent or an adult, the usual pair of socks from Albus didn't count. His fellow Slytherins had not done anything like that when he had been a student. Death Eaters would never have done so, no matter if they were only planning to be Death Eaters or if they already were. Much too sentimental for Dark wizards.

Despite himself, though, Severus was quite expectant and curious. He was wondering what Remus might get for him when the werewolf entered the staff room with an upset expression on his face. He marched over to Severus and sat down opposite him with crossed arms. Severus gave him a questioning look and he took a deep breath.

"Professor Trelawney visited my office," he muttered quietly so that only Severus could hear him. "She wanted to 'crystal-gaze' for me."

Severus smirked with a roll of his eyes and was surprised at the seriousness with which Remus spoke of the mad witch. "Did she tell you that a large beast threatens you once every month?" he said sarcastically and added, "Just the right thing to scare someone as superstitious as yourself."

To his further surprise, though, the other man's face only darkened. "I said I needed to get something from the staff room before my next lesson and when I had succeeded in luring her out of my office I ran for my life. She said my time were short and things like that. I don't really want to know anything about the future… who knows if she isn't right sometimes?"

Severus stared at him for a few seconds. "She is. Once in every decade," he said very softly. "She made the Prophecy."

Remus's eyes widened and he glanced round them. "You see? And what about Harry's Grim?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "What about it?" he asked and Remus looked as if he had been caught talking about a top-secret matter with the wrong person. He opened his mouth and shut it again twice without saying anything. Very curious indeed.

"W-well, what about him falling off his broom and all?" he mumbled then and Severus knew that that wasn't what he had initially meant.

"Coincidence," he said coolly and watched Remus fidget under his stare. "After all, much to my regret, the boy didn't die from the fall." The werewolf shrugged and turned his attention to a chocolate bar that he produced from his pocket. Severus didn't like his secrecy. But before he could inquire any further McGonagall had walked up to them and was smiling down at them both. Severus rolled his eyes, knowing what to expect.

"Don't do that, Severus. I'll ask you to come, nevertheless!" Minerva said with a scolding look at him. Remus looked from one to the other in confusion.

"Come? Where?"

"As every year, some of the staff will meet in the Three Broomsticks on the last Saturday before the end of term. We celebrate Christmas like that. We are not that many this year but Filius and Hagrid have already agreed. And now I wanted to ask the two of you to come along. You will be able to bear each other's presence for one day, won't you?"

Remus smiled and Severus smirked into his hand. "Hardly," the Potions master said and folded his arms. "I won't come."

Remus looked round at him, bewildered. "Not because of me?" he asked and met Severus's eyes.

"Oh, ignore him, Remus. He declines every year. But you'll come, won't you?" McGonagall said with a hopeful tone in her voice. Severus saw Remus hesitate and when the golden eyes found his black tunnels there was something in them that seemed like a question. Then the werewolf turned back to Minerva with a smile and Severus knew what he was going to say.

"I'm sorry, Minerva, but I have already got other plans. As you know the full moon is at Christmas and I have so much work left." It was astounding how well the Gryffindor could lie, without shame. McGonagall's face fell and she looked as if she wanted to pout.

"Well, alright, Remus. Such a pity, really. Maybe next time," she said regretfully and turned to leave. Severus looked at the werewolf and waited for him to turn his guilty eyes on him.

"What?" he mouthed and Severus shook his head in mock scolding.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for Slytherin behaviour. You liar," he said and Remus blushed a little.

"I thought we could spend this Saturday together," Remus replied quickly with just as hopeful a voice as Minerva had applied before. Severus gave him his most mockingly raised eyebrow, broke a piece of chocolate off the bar that lay before Remus on the table and put it into his mouth with an indifferent shrug.

On Saturday morning, after the Hogsmeade trip had started, Remus arrived in Severus's quarters. The Slytherin had refused to go back to the werewolf's Christmas hell and instead invited him into the dungeons. Or rather Remus had invited himself. Sitting on Severus's sofa, he was suddenly having a laughing fit out of nowhere and Severus, who was unburying the Darjeeling tea he had stored away in one of his cupboards, looked at him with a very menacing glare.

"Are you quite alright?" he growled when he poured the tea into two cups and placed them onto the table. Remus wiped the tears from his eyes, not sad tears fortunately, and said, "It's just… Minerva told me about last year when Gilderoy Glamour Boy was 'teaching'. About the dueling club and Valentine's day and that he said he were a better Potions brewer than you…" His laughter disrupted him and Severus rolled his eyes. "I was just imagining your face. I can see it before me. If you had looked at _me_ like that I would have run away and hidden in some dark corner. Was he suicidal to take you as his dueling partner?"

Severus offered him one of the cups and he took it with a grateful nod. "He was an idiot. A fraud. Belittling me as if he were the greatest wizard of all time. Making fools of us teachers always wearing his pompous robes and his stupid smile, a joke of a wizard. That was all he was good at. He made me furious, I wasn't the only one, either! And if he had given me an opportunity, I would gladly have thrown him off the Astronomy Tower!"

Remus smiled warmly at him. "And you would have done us all a favour. Good looks don't make you good at anything else," he said quietly and Severus narrowed his eyes at him. Good looks. He hadn't wanted to hear that from his lips. It made him scowl and Remus shook his head, amused.

"He looks ridiculous," Severus mumbled grumpily and was satisfied to see Remus nod in agreement.

"The tea is really good," he said then. "But a bit of sugar would be nice." Severus met his eyes and swished his wand to let a sugar bowl appear on the table. Remus just took a spoonful and sipped on his tea, taking Severus's right hand in which he was holding his wand and pulled him down on the sofa beside him. Severus considered his profile.

"Why did you not go along with the others?" he asked and Remus smiled sadly.

"I rather wanted to be with someone who really wants me around him," he looked at Severus. "You do, don't you?"

Severus didn't answer. "McGonagall asked you to come along. Why do you think she would ask you if she didn't want you to come?"

"Not everyone is as straight forward as you. She asked me out of obligation. Come now, Severus, none of the staff really want me around them."

"Because you are a werewolf?" Severus snapped and Remus flinched a little. "You should know that McGonagall is sincere. All Gryffindor. And Flitwick and Hagrid aren't that different from you. They are all awfully fond of you. They like you better than me. How surprising!"

Remus looked taken aback. His hands reached for Severus's right one and he squeezed it, mouthing a 'thank you'. "Nevertheless… I like to be with you. Had _you_ asked me to come to Hogsmeade with you–"

"That won't happen," Severus cut in truthfully and disillusioning.

" – I would've come along," the werewolf finished with a chuckle. He sipped on his tea again and stared into it thoughtfully. "They probably won't have to bear my presence for much longer anyway. You know, when Albus asked me to come here to teach… he told me that Vol– … that _he_ wanted to have the job and didn't get it… many years ago. And ever since, no DADA teacher has made it longer than one year. It's a curse… probably," he paused and met Severus's narrowed eyes. "I know that I only have this year. That's why I didn't want to let Trelawney tell my fortune. Fortune is something that I never had. The only thing I have is hope, the hope that I can stay here and teach until I'm old and… okay, I'm already grey but…"

The werewolf grinned but Severus couldn't find anything humourous in what he had said. "Why did you agree on coming here if you knew of the curse?" he asked.

"Because I was glad for the chance. It wasn't as if I'd had much to lose, only the quiet life I was leading, living into the day with no real purpose or aim, it wasn't a very pleasant or easy life, either, so the offer Dumbledore had for me was indeclinable. Doing what I'm best at, what I always wanted to do. Even though I am what I am. I thought that I could never again have such a chance and the illusion of a perfect life, time limit or not, was tempting enough. Meeting Harry, the Wolfsbane…" He sighed and touched Severus's cheek. "And I don't regret it. Yet. And even if I am sacked tomorrow, I am sure that I will still think that I made the right decision. We all have so little time, Severus. I want to make mine as happy as I can."

"And your conclusion is to spend your time with _me_?" Severus said making the other grin.

"That is what makes me happy," Remus replied and it made Severus's stomach feel very fuzzy. He leant in and brushed his lips against Severus's and the Slytherin pulled him closer. He felt his insides churn when he thought about the end of the school year. Usually he looked forward to it, to the new chance of becoming DADA teacher and to getting rid of the fool who had taught it before. This year, though, all that was waiting was Remus's departure and he just couldn't look forward to that. It would come, one way or another, the Dark Lord's curse could not be broken just by hope or willpower. Or love.

Hopefully, though, the one year limitation would not affect their connection, tear them apart. Hopefully, the reason for the werewolf's departure would be entirely harmless and have nothing to do with the both of them or the lycanthropy. Severus heaved a sigh. Such naïve hopes were for Gryffindors.

"Will you spend Christmas with me?"

Severus looked up, startled by the sudden question and raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

The werewolf looked at his hands, somewhat embarrassed. "I know that you don't like Christmas… but it is a full moon so you'll come anyway, right? I'm just asking if you'll to stay."

The Potions master folded his arms putting on a very skeptical look. "Oh, come on, Severus. Christmas is a feast that you celebrate with your loved ones. You are my loved one. So I'd like to celebrate it with you. I'll be too weak to celebrate much anyway so you won't be bothered too much."

Severus would have given in already after the part about the loved ones, feeling strangely honoured that he should be the one person the werewolf wanted to spend a feast with which he considered important. He sipped on his tea, pretending to be leading an inner debate and when Remus's expectant tension grew so big that he looked as if he were about to explode any second, Severus said, "Very well, but –" He held up his index finger in a threatening teacher's gesture when a satisfied smile spread over Remus's face, "you will get rid of that _ridiculous_ decoration first. Otherwise I will not set even one _toe_ into your rooms and you can celebrate Christmas with only your pillow as company. Have I made myself clear?"

Remus nodded eagerly. "Quite clear, Professor Snape, sir!" he said and chuckled his husky chuckle.

The school was quite deserted from Monday on and when Severus brought the Wolfsbane to Remus's office he met him half-way, and was greeted, unexpectedly, by a kiss and a "Good afternoon, Severus! How are you today?". Severus was absolutely taken aback and looked around for onlookers. The werewolf laughed and took the goblet from him. "Don't worry, it would be a miracle if we met anyone in the castle. I think we are only fourteen living souls and one of them never leaves her classroom. Actually," he said and drained the smoking potion in one draught. The well known grimace was sure to accompany the "Thanks a lot" which Remus muttered, trying not to retch.

Severus took the goblet back and gave him his usual "Not at all" in return. As a matter of fact, with the knowledge of the castle being so empty it was far more relaxed to stand with the Gryffindor in a hallway without the need of keeping a safety distance. Nevertheless, one never knew when and where Albus would turn up, so the Potions master glanced around him again when Remus took hold of his arm to pull him into a hug.

"What would I do without you?"

"Howl at the moon," Severus said drily. The soft chuckle he received for it gave him goose bumps.

Until Christmas Eve, the day of the full moon, Remus spent most of his time in the staff room; gladly, Severus thought because he saved him from a very tipsy Minerva McGonagall one afternoon who cornered the Potions master in the doorway, trying to force him into a kiss under the mistletoe . All Albus did was laugh his old, wrinkled head off, Flitwick and Sprout tried to stifle their own giggles but with no success, being of as little help as the old man.

Remus, though, who had left the room to get his chocolate, came bumping into Severus with quite some force ("Oh, I'm so sorry, Severus."), knocking him out of Minerva's reach just in time, receiving a peck on his cheek from her. The witch giggled, then pouted - _pouted_! – at Severus with something on her lips that sounded like "I'm gonna getcha, too, Snape, don't think you're save now!". It gave him goose bumps. But they were very different from those, Remus had given him. He stared at Remus, who smiled at the drunken witch in polite amusement, waiting for him to meet his eyes to tell him 'thank you' with them. When he did turn, Severus felt himself grow a little annoyed at his wink.

"Haven't been kissed by a witch in some time." He grinned. "Was quite exciting." Though Severus knew that he meant it _very_ ironically (his barely stifled snort of laughter had given him away), he was… indignant.

"Thank you," he muttered but Remus just gave him a confused look. He rolled his eyes impatiently. "For saving me there."

Still Remus gave him that confused look, his eyes full of mischief. "I don't know what you mean, Severus." Severus glowered at him but with no effect. They ended up being force-fed Minerva's strong Scottish Whiskey after Severus had affirmed that the Wolfsbane didn't lose its effect when mixed with alcohol ("If only I had known that earlier!" the werewolf said jokingly.). Remus sputtered and coughed, his already sore throat getting sorer still. Severus drained the glass in one gulp, enjoying the sharp and hot sensation, rising from his throat up into his mouth, unfolding and spreading like smoke filling a room. It reminded him a little of what happened to his body whenever the werewolf hugged him.

On Christmas Eve, Severus entered the werewolf's quarters and handed him the Potion, pleased to see that the only item of the Christmas decoration which was still there was the tree, now standing beside the armchair in Remus's rooms, much less glowing with lights, only subtly decorated in gold and silver, a star on its top which twinkled magically. That was acceptable. Remus smiled at Severus and patted the sofa beside him to make him sit down.

"Empty enough?" he asked and sipped on the Potion. Severus nodded. "I kept my part of the promise. Will you keep yours?"

He nodded again and looked out of the window. The sun was already setting, inciting a tense unrest inside of him. He glanced over to Remus who was taking one big gulp after the other, shaking slightly. Though Severus felt a certain urge to stay and soothe the other with his presence, as he had after the last full moon, he couldn't. He didn't want to see the transformation and he didn't want to face the wolf again. He saw Remus as Remus, not as the wolf. Seeing the transformation would probably change that. Make it more real that he turned into a fully-fledged monster every month.

When Remus handed him back the goblet with a slight twitch in his features, perhaps a first sign of the approaching transformation, Severus got up very quickly and made to leave. He felt the Gryffindor's sad eyes on his back and turned again, laying one hand on his shoulder reassuringly. More he couldn't do. Remus, head bent, cupped it for a moment, then let go and with a wave of his hand, dismissed him from his rooms. Not one second too early. Closing the door behind himself, Severus heard his stifled moans of pain.

The Potions master couldn't sleep that night, thought about the lonely wolf, lying in his sitting room under the Christmas tree, aching, waiting for the pain to come again. When the sun rose Severus sat up in his bed, unable to stop himself from straining his ears to try and catch the werewolf's cries of agony. Of course he couldn't hear them but he still had those in his ears that he shouldn't have heard. He felt as if he had intruded on something very private which Remus had not wanted to reveal to him. Something too intense, too agonising, too hard to bear. Stifled until the unwanted ears were there no more.

When Severus went up to the Great Hall for breakfast, having unwrapped his new pair of socks with a scowl (with a pattern of tiny lions and snakes, what did the old man want to tell him?), he was startled by the single table standing in the midst of it. Wonderful, he thought, so close to Potter and the lot. Apart from himself and the Headmaster there were only the other Heads of Houses as representatives of the staff. They were joined by Filch, two first-years, utterly nervous probably because of Albus's and his own close presence, one fifth-year Slytherin and the golden trio.

When Albus offered Severus a cracker in his childish Christmas-mood (Merlin, how old was the man? How could the Dark Lord take him seriously? But that was the old man's trick, probably!) Severus pulled on it only very reluctantly and just to please the old man, as a kind of present, because he knew that it could only mean idiocy, and it did, of course. He was reminded very unpleasantly of his Boggart-replica and the fight he had had with Remus about it, when the cracker exploded and a witch's head topped with a vulture emerged from it. Severus pressed his lips together and pushed it over to Albus who swapped it with his own hat. That was the only present he could expect from him! And hadn't Severus just seen Potter and Weasley grin? Their next detentions would be _very_ unpleasant!

It didn't lift his mood when Trelawney came downstairs, giving her usual speech about the Inner Eye (which was rather blind most of the time), having told her to join them in the Hall, and that "poor Professor Lupin" would not be with them for a very long time and that he was aware of it himself. Severus nearly bent his fork when she talked of the werewolf like that, calling him "dear" as if she knew him. It was her who made him worry at all. The superstitious fool. Fortunately McGonagall was just as fond of the fraud as Severus was, so he could enjoy their bickering. When Albus asked him whether he had made the Potion again he would almost have stabbed him with his fork. Such a stupid question.

What lifted Severus's mood, finally, was the prediction that Potter or Weasley, or both, would die soon, since they had got up from a table with thirteen people at it, and the Granger girl telling her Head of House that Potter had been given a Firebolt broom by an anonymous donor. Of course McGonagall decided to take it from him, served the boy right for being so careless not to inform her of it himself. After all Black could want to kill him with it. Severus smirked. Maybe he should talk the witch into letting him keep it. Pity that no one would believe in him having only good intentions.

A good twenty minutes after he had finished his breakfast, he reached the werewolf's bedroom door with the necessary potion and entered quietly. He opened the curtains to reveal the snowy landscape outside and sat down on the chair before the bed to wait for Remus to wake up. He reached inside his robes to make sure that it was still there, his present. He hadn't wanted to buy one, he just thought it was pointless, but since he had developed something like anticipation for his own gift, he had felt shabby not giving anything in return, being the richer one, too. It wasn't much. He had seen the werewolf eat chocolate filled with nougat most of the time so he had purchased the best nougat you could get, not from Honeydukes, from a more exclusive sweet shop near Inverness, ordered and delivered by owl just in time for the feast. It was a select variety of all tastes, colours and shapes. Expensive for sure, for the werewolf, not for Severus.

The shop had wrapped it in Gryffindor colours and Severus had been tempted to unwrap it himself and just give it to the werewolf in a naked state, but he had not, thinking that the other would like it better that way, with a surprise effect. The boyish gleam in his eyes would be very welcome and Severus couldn't deny that Remus's reaction was another reason for even giving him something at all.

After an hour and a half of waiting, Remus's eyes fluttered open and a warm, though tired smile spread over his face immediately upon seeing the Potions master, sitting with crossed legs and folded hands in front of his bed, watching him silently. "Merry Christmas, Severus," he mumbled and turned onto his back when the Slytherin stepped close, potion in his hand.

"Yes, yes, to you, too," he said and let himself be pulled into a very weak hug. The werewolf took the potion phial from Severus with a warm "thank you" and drained it eagerly, knowing its effect. Then he sat up he glanced down his bed, startled, at the many packages and parcels lying at its foot. He looked at Severus who shrugged and said, "You are Hogwarts's favourite teacher. I thought you had noticed."

Remus grinned and scrambled to the end of his bed, gathering up the presents in his arms to look at them. When he winced, clearly in pain again, Severus was reminded of the night before and waved his wand to take the gifts away from him. Remus's disappointed face was very amusing, like a little boy having been stolen his lollypop. Stealing lollypops was one of Severus's favourite hobbies. The Potions master shook his head at him.

"You must rest. You can look at those later," he said in a strict voice, hovering the presents under the Christmas tree in the sitting room. When he was pouring some white tea he heard the werewolf padding over the stone floor behind him and turned round to scold him. Remus had wrapped the blankets round his thin body and was standing on weak legs in front of the sofa, his arm outstretched, holding a large present, wrapped in green paper with a silver ribbon.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," said he beaming and Severus stepped closer with a wary look at the other man, taking the present from him carefully. He sat down on the sofa in his usual place on the left side and laid the present into his lap. Remus knelt down on the floor between Severus's legs and leant against the right one, glancing up at him expectantly. Severus tried to ignore the pleasant tingling in his knee and looked down at the present.

"Well? Open it," said Remus impatiently and with a last glance at him Severus started unwrapping it awkwardly. When the green paper slipped off, Severus's eyes widened. It was a book, not just any book, a rare first edition of 'Revolutionary Potion-Making Vol. 1, Experiments, Approaches and Solutions to Impossibilities'. It was one of the books that you couldn't buy in the stores anymore, too dangerous and too deathly if read by the wrong person. Though most of the things written in the book weren't mysteries to him, it was something that the Slytherin had always missed in his own collection. Its value in gold was extremely high among collectors. Severus stared at Remus who just smiled back at him.

"Where did you get that?" Severus asked, mouth dry.

The werewolf pointed at his bookshelves. "I inherited it from my father and he from his father. I don't have any use at all for it, here it is only a dust catcher and I thought that you would like to have it, so there you are." Severus looked back at the book again. It was in a very good shape, considering its age, and apparently those who it had belonged to before had commented on it. There were slips of paper in it everywhere. "I thought you might be interested in what my father and grandfather had to say on some things. I don't understand it of course, you can remove those notes if you want."

Severus shook his head and leafed through the book, breathing in the dusty scent of the old dry pages. Remus's father had obviously tried to find a cure for his son's lycanthropy, judging by his notes in the sections of 'Transformations' and 'Cures for the Incurable'. It was evident that he had failed.

"Do you even know –"

"I know what it's worth, yes. But I didn't want to sell it to just anyone, for sentimental reasons," said Remus running his fingers over one of his father's notes, gently, his brow creased for a moment. "In your hands, though, I know it is valued and useful. So, I want you to have it."

Closing the book again, Severus met Remus's golden eyes and nodded his head with a stern face, tracing the other's jaw line with cold fingers. Remus chuckled. "I'm glad you like it," said he relieved and reached for one of his own presents under the tree to unwrap it.

Severus watched him grinning over his every gift, some coming from students, usually female, laughing his head off when he reached one sent to him by the Weasley twins, a badge, looking extraordinarily like a 'Head Boy' badge. It read, 'Best DADA Teacher' in a bright red colour, and a little smaller underneath and enchanted to move over the badge from right to left so you could read it all, 'yet, and probably to come, since the source of good teachers seems to have run dry. What with Lockhart and Snape? You are of a rare species. Couldn't you start your own school? We'd definitely come! Anyway, good job, Professor Lupin!'

Another snort of laughter was heard over Albus's gift ("He gave me… socks."). Severus rolled his eyes when he noticed the very same pattern of snakes and lions on Remus's socks. The werewolf was especially happy over McGonagall's package of shortbread, opening it immediately and offering one to Severus.

"She likes you," Severus said. "She doesn't give _me_ any presents."

"Probably because you told her not to – oh!" Remus replied his smile fading immediately when he moved to the last package, smelling distinctly like Trelawney's strong perfume. "Oh, no."

Severus scowled at the package. "And _she_ has a crush on you!" he said between gritted teeth. Remus looked at him in horror, laying the gift onto the table far away from him, then he got up, staggered a little (how on earth was it possible to look graceful even when _staggering_?) and took his wand down from the mantelpiece to light a fire. Severus hesitated for a few seconds, then he reached into his robes, pulling out the red and gold present for the werewolf. When the other returned to sit down on the sofa, Severus held it out to him, not meeting his eye.

Remus gave him a startled look and took it from him slowly. "You have a present for me?" he asked and Severus raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, I just want you to deliver it to Albus because I'm too shy to do it myself."

"You wouldn't have needed to," said Remus, ignoring the sarcasm.

"I know. Will you open it?" Severus replied, folding his arms. Remus smiled when he opened the ribbon and ripped the wrapping off carefully. His eyes shone when he saw the sweet box and he turned to Severus with that boyish gleam in his eyes that Severus had wanted to see, bringing the youth back to his features.

"Thank you so much!" he said and flung himself at the Potions master who almost fell off the sofa.

"No-not at all," Severus said, unable to breathe in the tight embrace. Before he knew it Remus had let go again to seal his lips with a sweet kiss, almost sitting on his lap.

"And this," he said when he pulled back, golden eyes mischievous again, "is my privilege." Severus raised an eyebrow at him.

"Anyone would be a better match than me," he muttered, threading his fingers through the werewolf's soft hair.

"Anyone, except for me, so we fit together perfectly," Remus said jokingly and kissed him again, before he could retort anything.

Severus scowled at him when he pulled back again. "But I am…"

"You. You are you. And I am a werewolf, so we are square," Remus finished for him and grinned. "And you are in my heart. You cannot escape from there."

Severus shook his head. "The heart is meaningless," he said quietly. "It is only flesh. Mind and soul are significant. They surpass the limits death sets to the body and live forever."

Remus considered him for a long time, cupping his face with his hands. "Then I will be precise. Without you my soul is incomplete, its depths hollow and desolate. You possess my mind, barely allowing a moment when it isn't filled with you. And even if fate tears us apart you will be cradled within my mind and soul even after 'forever' is over."

Severus met his eyes and knew that he hadn't only said it to please him, but because he understood and agreed, having meant 'heart' as a metaphor, probably realising now that Severus didn't like the trivial term.

What he was feeling now was so intense that he couldn't even try and describe it. As if he had been dipped in the gold of those eyes, of his soul; as if its splendor had finally reached him in the shadows that had held him captive, illuminating the black tunnels in which his own soul was hidden.

The only emotions he had felt and shown in the years before were anger, hatred and malicious glee. Not to be compared to what he was feeling right now. For him. How should he handle or show such feelings? They made him so much more vulnerable than anger, hatred or glee. Severus didn't like being vulnerable. But then again, being vulnerable in Remus's arms was likely to be a healing experience.

"Remus…" Severus said finally, but couldn't continue. He hadn't even noticed how his mouth had gone dry. The werewolf smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for being here, Severus. That is the greatest gift to me," Remus whispered and Severus knew that what he meant was more than his mere physical presence.

When the werewolf pulled Severus's arm round his waist, taking his left hand into both of his, the Potions master felt oddly at home.

Thank you for letting me be here, he thought, watching the snow fall behind the windows, covering the dark grounds in white.


	20. To Share

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**To Share**

Severus spent most of the remaining holidays outside, using the seldom occasion of completely empty grounds and the absolute absence of curious eyes, following his every step. The only two windows of present teachers or students directed at the lake were Remus's and Albus's, like that Severus could enjoy his winter walk in the snow round the lake, knowing that he wasn't being watched and if then only by those he didn't need to hide from.

The air smelt of snow and was cold to nose and ears, causing the Slytherin to bury his face in his scarf, while strolling round the lakeside, lonesome, taking in the beauty of the white landscape and the frozen water. Hagrid's hut was barely visible in the snow, covered and surrounded by except around the smoking chimney and the tall door. The castle looked like a painting, magnificently perfect with its white-topped towers next to the frozen Forbidden Forest.

Severus stopped at the far side of the lake, the ice separating him from the castle. He sighed when his eyes wandered over the Whomping Willow and the greenhouses. As a boy, just having left the school, he would never have believed that he'd return. Hogwarts was not the most pleasant place to be. He had many bad memories of his time at school, and his job as a teacher wasn't necessarily his dream job either, he wasn't made for teaching children. Least of all those dunderheads attending the school. And maybe he wasn't made for any other job either, he had never really thought about jobs anyway, wanting to become a Death Eater all his school life. But still, being at Hogwarts was better than being at Spinner's End, or at Azkaban; Hogwarts had always been a sanctuary, especially when, after the war, he had been at an utter loss of orientation and perspective, alone and outcast. At the castle, he was respected and he had a home. And a task.

Probably that was what Remus liked, too, though for him of course, the memories of his own childhood were positive, he had spent the best years of his life at Hogwarts. And he had always wanted to be a teacher. Was born to be one. Severus sighed again, he had taught him a lot, too. Suddenly he heard a crunching noise, like very slow steps in the snow, and whirled round – just a little too late. The green and brown blur hit him in the chest and he tumbled and fell into the snow. The hoarse laugh was unmistakable.

"Remus!" Severus growled, shoving the werewolf off himself rather roughly, and sat up. "What in Slytherin's name did you do that for?"

Remus rolled onto his back, his laugh rising in foggy clouds from his mouth into the icy air. He was wearing a thick dark green cloak, patched like all his others, brown leather boots and woolen gloves with the fingertips missing, but no scarf. Severus scowled at him. He had recovered quickly after the full moon but the exhaustion was still written on his face.

"I spotted you from my window and wondered whether you would be willing to let me accompany you, Albus said you didn't let anyone. You didn't notice me following you. You were obviously quite deep in thought, or I deserve an O in stealth!" Remus chuckled and sighed. Severus wondered whether he could catch his foggy breath with a phial.

"The wolf hunting its prey? I hope you can restrain yourself from eating me now," Severus said sarcastically and made to get up. Remus rolled over, though, pushing Severus back down into the snow with his body pressed against his. His eyes were gleaming with mischief again.

"Ah, I don't know. You look rather delicious," he purred and Severus anticipated his kiss when it came, unconcerned of any onlookers, so far from the castle, lying in the deep snow. The icy cold seemed to be swallowed by Remus's heat and the Potions master had the feeling that not only the snow beneath them was melting but they as well, into each other, becoming one warm mass. Severus's hands found their way to Remus's bare neck and his cold ungloved fingers burnt with the contact of the werewolf's warm skin. When Remus broke the kiss and got up, he tried to pull Severus onto his feet with him, but staggered and fell, Severus landing beside him in the snow again. The silent air was once more disturbed by the hoarse fog of his laugh.

Severus unwound his scarf from around his neck and laid it round Remus's instead to protect the delicate man from the cold. "You will fall ill again if you don't dress properly, you dunderhead," he said and got up, walking away from him. He heard the werewolf scramble to his feet and hurry after him. When he caught up, he had buried his nose in the black scarf and touched Severus's hair, wet from the snow. The Slytherin moved away from his hand and glowered at him.

"Sorry about that," said Remus, his voice muffled by the scarf. "I hope _you_ won't fall ill now."

Severus shook his head. "Like I said, I am never ill."

Remus chuckled. They walked in pleasant silence for a while, sometimes disturbed by Remus trying to skate on the ice of the lake, only just managing not to fall, waving his arms through the air to keep his balance and laughing with joy. Severus watched him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to fall and break something, but it didn't happen; his movements were graceful as ever. Remus's laugh was rather refreshing and it sounded as if it hadn't been in use for some time. With no real childhood and a spoilt youth, spent lonely and miserable, without aim or perspective, he and Remus shared another fate. Though laughing was something Severus had forgotten how to do, it was nice listening to Remus doing it as though he needed to catch up on lost times.

When the werewolf landed on his hands and knees, just avoiding to hit his head after slipping on the ice Severus called, "Would you refrain from breaking your neck? Knowing our background, they would blame me for your premature death and send me to Azkaban." He got a chuckle in return.

"You know, Severus," panted Remus when he reached solid ground again, "I've thought a lot about my life, how long I want to live, how I want to live. I had a lot of time to do so, in the last years. They weren't really the best years, mind you, and sometimes I felt myself dreading the long lifespan of wizards." He leant against the elm-tree he had sat under with his friends so often in long gone years and glanced around the grounds. "Not that my own lifespan were that long, as a werewolf, but still, even half the years of Dumbledore were still too many. The prospect was: agonising transformations for the rest of my life, which would be spent in poverty, unemployed or with hard work, even in the Muggle-world, alone, without acceptance among wizardkind and with no real pleasure in life, but reading, tea and chocolate. Not very promising. I didn't want to live awfully long like that."

Remus smiled slightly but Severus's face was stern. He knew the feeling, though he had to admit that his own situation was much more comfortable. "Now I feel so much better, so much more confident of the future. If I can continue like this, here, teaching and close to you, I want to live for another hundred years. This chance made me believe in life again and in other chances to follow, after this one is gone. And who knows, maybe after the discovery of the Wolfsbane, there will be a cure found in the near future and I might just become a normal person."

Severus put his freezing hands into his pockets. He doubted that Remus would become normal even if cured. He could never change who the curse had made of him. Or people's opinions about what it made him. And though it was a terribly egoistic thing to think, he didn't want him to change, be like everyone else. He wanted him like he was, so similar to and so different from himself. That was the man he had grown to appreciate. Severus stepped closer to him to be in the range of his warmth.

"Hope is allowed, right?" whispered Remus, looking at the snowy ground. The Slytherin didn't answer. Unfulfilled hope was pure torture. He felt Remus's hand on his left arm and looked up into his eyes.

"When we were students…" he began but Severus shook his head and his brows knitted.

"Do not speak of things that I cannot forgive," he said shortly and Remus's eyes saddened immensely.

"I'm sorry, Severus. It wouldn't happen nowadays."

Severus averted his eyes again. He didn't really want to hear anything about the events that had taken place under this elm-tree. "You are different now, stronger, maybe," he muttered and saw Remus shake his head sadly.

"I fear my backbone's still as wobbly as it was. But my priorities have changed a little," said he with a smile that was full of disappointment with himself. Severus frowned.

"I do not agree," he said simply and Remus's smile saddened even further.

"Is it a bad thing that I want people to like me? That I want you to like me?" he asked and Severus's frown deepened.

"No," he answered. "Most people would believe that I've bewitched you, though."

Remus laughed again and Severus was glad that the tension ceased. You've bewitched me, he thought to himself, who would believe that? He couldn't help but give in to the urge to capture those red lips with his, stealing the laughter away, swallowing it before it could foggily dissolve in the freezing air.

When they made their way back to the castle Remus was eager to let him know that, no, he hadn't given Potter the Firebolt as Minerva had suspected, that if he could afford such a broom he wouldn't buy it but purchase a few new garments and loads of new books. Severus wasn't surprised by the suspicions McGonagall and probably some others had had. Remus was one of the boy's parents' friends after all and it wasn't a secret that he was very fond of him. The Potions master just couldn't comprehend why the other man would like such an impertinent brat, but then again, he seemed to have a weakness for foul characters.

"You _are_ favouring him," Severus replied and got a 'look who's talking'-glance from the werewolf that ended the conversation.

Inside, Remus gave Severus back his scarf and thanked him before walking up to his rooms with a hum on his lips.

In the night of the thirty-first of December, Remus turned up in Severus's sitting room to celebrate the New Year. Severus glowered at him, having snapped out of his sleep on the sofa, over the book he had received from him for Christmas. What was there to celebrate? Another pointless year had gone by only to be followed by the next pointless year. Remus chuckled and pulled him to the window, to look at the starry sky.

"Let's hope that the next year will start with the perfection this year is ending with," said Remus, leaning against the windowsill. "We should think about some good intentions for next year."

Severus scowled and crossed his arms. "Why should I change anything?"

Remus smiled. "Maybe because it makes your life better."

"Those intentions are never fulfilled. They are just empty words," said Severus coolly.

Remus turned to him and shrugged. "We utter them in the hope that we will be strong enough to put them into practice. It means that we are aware of our mistakes and shortcomings and ready to try and erase them." He reached out and smoothed a crease in Severus's robes over his collarbone. "I have many flaws and I try to erase them," he continued, looking upset for a moment before he met Severus's eyes. "Probably I won't succeed but I will keep trying to improve myself."

Severus shook his head and rolled his eyes. "That is unnecessary," he said and was somewhat pleased when Remus smiled, though there was something in his eyes that seemed sad like on the day of their walk. Before he could even start to think about what might be wrong, the grandfather clock struck twelve and Remus leant in to kiss him, startling Severus a little. In the corner of his eye, Severus saw the usual Dumbledorish firework in the dark sky, dipping the waning moon in all imaginable colours.

When the twelfth stroke had left the room in silence, Remus pulled back, wishing Severus a 'Happy New Year' and made to leave, back through the fireplace. Severus leant against the cold window, licking his lips, promising that he would try and give up his reserved passiveness in the year to come and hold Remus back from leaving when he wanted him to stay.

Soon, the castle's halls were filled with noisy dunderheads again and lessons started, leaving them with lots of work and little time. Gladly, the Christmas decorations had been removed and Minerva had sworn never to drink alcohol ever again. Until next Christmas.

On Wednesday, Severus met the werewolf bustling about the castle, apparently in search of something. When he stuck his head into a broom cupboard Severus approached him, crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder, making him jump when he turned round.

"Severus!" he said, pressing a hand to his heart. "How are you?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and looked into the cupboard. "What are you doing?"

Remus looked confused for a moment, turned to the cupboard and back to Severus again, closing the door with a smile. "I'm looking for a Boggart. Have been since yesterday," he said.

Severus waited for an elaboration but when none came he asked, "Why?"

"Harry's Boggart is a Dementor. Very helpful when practicing the Patronus Charm," said Remus, moving away from the cupboard and to the nearest classroom. Severus glided after him with a scowl.

"You are going to teach him, then?" he snapped and Remus nodded calmly. "What does Dumbledore say?"

"He thinks it wise. Because 'Harry should be able to defend himself against the misery and despair such a rotten creature brings to him. As a child, he should be able to live without his dying parents in his ears,'" the werewolf mumbled and closed the door of the classroom again, moving to the next. "That's what he said, so, I think he is okay with my '_favouring_' Harry."

Severus's scowl darkened. He didn't like it. The boy didn't deserve the attention or the werewolf's affection. Apart from that, Potter was only thirteen years old. How big was the chance that he would actually manage the spell with his at most average talent?

"Do you not think that you overestimate his skill? That he will be too young to master such a highly advanced spell?" Severus said coldly, watching the other man close the door and move on again.

"We will see," Remus said, facing him. "Listen, I know that you don't approve but… I need to do this. We will start tomorrow, so… if you want to help me find a Boggart, then do so. If you want to sabotage me –" he winked at Severus, "– don't even try. I won't let you."

Severus's scowl turned into a glare and he fixed his eyes on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and met the golden orbs. "Filch's office might be providing what you are looking for," he growled and turned in a swirl of robes to walk away into the opposite direction.

It was just a little satisfying when he heard Remus call, "Thank you, Severus!" after him in a much too cheerful voice.

On Thursday Severus saw Remus carry a large packing case about, being thanked grumpily by Filch, giving him a "thanks" of his own.

"Been successful?" Severus asked in passing him and Remus nodded with a smile, shifting the case, steadying it on his hip.

"Yes, thanks again," said he and laughed. "Mr Filch was not delighted to see me in his office again. He remembers me very well from my own time at school, playing pranks and so on. I was there being punished with the others more than once, fearing that one day he might actually hang us from the ceiling by our wrists with those chains of his or skin us alive and feed us to the Blast-Ended Skrewts."

Severus raised an annoyed eyebrow. Indeed, Remus and his gang of idiot friends had been very much like the Weasley twins. Maybe not _quite_ as bad. It was hard, nowadays, to imagine that decent and quiet professor as a troublemaking prankster. Only the gleam of mischief in his eyes was a reminder of it.

"Well, but when I told him that I would get rid of his Boggart for him he let me proceed. It was in his filing cabinet." He paused and when the bell rang he added quickly, "Can I come to your rooms afterwards?"

Severus hesitated for a moment, and then nodded when a stream of students swept them into opposite directions.

In the evening he leafed through Remus's father's book again, a glass of wine in his hand. It was almost ten when the flames in his fireplace burnt green and Remus's revolving figure emerged from them. He stepped out from under the mantelpiece and dusted off his patched robes, giving Severus a weak smile before walking towards the sofa and collapsing on it. Severus laid the book aside and gave him a curious look.

"It was… terrible," the werewolf said, rubbing his eyes and chuckling shakily.

"I told you so," said Severus but Remus shook his head.

"No, no… Harry did well enough. Actually he was really good. Managed not to pass out the third time around. That was a good start," Remus said and Severus's face darkened at his proud tone.

"What was it then?" he snapped and Remus looked at him with sad eyes.

"Not only was I affected by the Boggart-Dementor, as well, it was mostly Harry's experience that made me… well, feel bad," he replied and ran a hand through his hair. He looked rather pale. "He heard… James this time. And… well, somehow it was so painful to look at him and listen to him. Then he asked me if I knew Sirius and… God, I wouldn't have believed this so difficult."

Remus buried his face in his hands and Severus looked into his wine. "If it pains you, then you shouldn't continue," he muttered.

"But I want to help him. And I must admit that I want to get to know him better," Remus said, and shuffled closer.

"You knew his father, you know him. He is no different from him," Severus growled when a delicate hand snuck into the crook of his arm. "Arrogant."

He could feel Remus's intent stare on him and tried to ignore it. "Why are you so annoyed by my spending time with him? He isn't like James was when he was his age."

"He is an insolent brat who steals my time with you!" Severus snapped and almost crushed his glass. Right after the words had left his lips he felt embarrassed and childish. When Remus touched his hand he felt cold and Severus was surprised by it. He had never felt cold before.

"That's… you make him hate you, you know?" Remus whispered very close to Severus's ear and his warm breath was making him shiver. At least his breath was still warm.

"It is good that he hates me," replied Severus darkly.

"The guilt again?" Remus asked and Severus sipped on his wine. "Those things were too big for us, Severus. There are many things that I don't understand even now. Many things that I was never told. Others made the decisions that really changed something."

"Oblivion and ignorance are no excuse. It is not as if the deaths of Potter's parents were the only ones that I was involved in," Severus snarled and wanted to take another gulp of his wine but the glass was taken from him by a gentle hand.

"You are on the right side now, Severus," said Remus, taking a sip of his own. "You know how I think about it. Who you are now is the only thing that matters."

"I killed!"

"So, did I," replied Remus unimpressed.

Severus looked at him with a glare. "As if that were the same."

"I didn't say that. I just said that you have changed."

Severus heaved an exasperated sigh. He wanted to hear that, and at the same time he felt shabby because of it. "I have not changed as much as you think. I _do_ look up to the Dark Lord; even if I do not worship him, he is a great wizard. I wanted to be respected and to prove myself and he gave me that opportunity. I didn't feel like the hated weirdo your friends used to torture, when I was in the Death Eaters' rows. I wanted to stop the laughing and I did. No one laughed at me anymore after I had received the Mark," he took a deep breath and seized Remus's hand around the wine glass. "I was convinced of his purpose. And I agreed with him, that Muggles are scum, that wizards are superior. I hated them. Because of my father. Though I didn't know it then, our fates were similar."

Remus didn't let go of the glass, just stared at him with a stern face and a creased brow. "He is nothing like you. And you are nothing like him. You are respected here, too, you don't need _him_ to gain self-confidence. You are not like that, Severus, maybe you were in the past, but not anymore." His eyes were imploring Severus to agree with him but the Slytherin averted his own. "We've had this discussion before. I know you better than that, Severus, and you know yourself, too. You are not like that."

Severus glanced at him. He didn't think that Muggle-borns were unworthy, he didn't hate _all_ Muggles, just didn't want anything to do with them, he didn't think werewolves were vermin, he didn't need the Dark Mark anymore to feel self-confident, it rather had the opposite effect, he wouldn't join the Death Eaters again if he could choose, it had been a foolish decision, a desperate search for glory. But he did think of the Dark Lord as a great wizard, just like Dumbledore, who had performed great magic that Severus had wished and still wished to master one day. But he hated him, too, regretted the services he had done for him and if he could prevent it, he wouldn't do it again. It was true, he _had_ changed. A lot. Though he was still nasty, he wasn't evil. And Remus was so much more similar to him than _he_ was.

Severus let go of the wine glass and let Remus press his forehead into his temple. "You are courageous, Severus, a soldier. A good one. I am sure you were a much more effective one than me. I was never much of a warrior."

"It isn't for you, you are soft. I am sure you feel guilty for all the deaths you've caused even though it was self-defence," said Severus quietly and Remus smiled against his cheek.

"You're right," he whispered. "All the time, I just wanted to live a quiet life and teach. The battlefield destroys people. I didn't want to be shattered even further. I didn't want to fight and kill. But it was necessary. To help restore peace in the world. I didn't want to be a coward while everyone else fought and risked their lives." He chuckled bitterly and slumped against Severus, setting the wine down and laying his arms round the Potions master's neck. "My efforts were appreciated, right?" he added sarcastically. It was unusual for him to make such a comment but Severus knew that he needed to make it to release some anger, to prevent shouting it out.

Severus turned his head and their lips met in a short kiss. Again, Severus didn't know any words of comfort. They had both been used and damaged. Maybe the knowledge of sharing it was comfort enough. "Dumbledore is rather cruel," Severus said quietly and Remus kissed him again, humming in agreement.

"I was abandoned," said Remus quietly, "after the war. Nobody kept in touch with me. They acted as if they didn't recognise me in the street. I didn't expect help, just someone to talk to. But I had lost everything, my whole life. No letter in twelve years. And then there he was, Dumbledore, when I had already given up hope, standing before my door, asking a favour. Stepping over the threshold into the very ruins of my existence. I was angry with him. I wanted to say no, but couldn't. The offer was too tempting, my debt to him too big and I was glad to be of some use again. I was grateful… though I knew that he didn't just want to do me some good. He needed me. Another nice feeling."

Severus comprehended the dilemma. But in his pride he would have declined the offer; he had stayed at Hogwarts only out of duty and guilt, and indebted to the Headmaster. Though Severus would never admit that he appreciated his position at the school, he was indeed grateful that Dumbledore had placed trust in him, saved him from Azkaban and for other help that he hadn't deserved; he had the highest respect for him. He was of use to the old man, Remus would probably have been a burden, would have reminded him of his mistake.

And now that he needed him, for teaching or because of Black Severus didn't know, he just invited him to Hogwarts, knowing that he _couldn't_ refuse, probably thinking that he was being _kind_. It was cruel in a very subtle way, unintentionally so, but still cruel. Especially to a man like Remus, loyal, anguished Remus who had not had anyone in the whole world, who had waited, yearned for only so much as an occasional letter and Severus was sure that the old man had known it all along. Dumbledore was just a man like any other, after all, powerful, yes, but just as flawed. And yet, one could not say no to him, or hate him.

"Well," sighed Remus, "I learnt in the last decade that the only person I can really rely on is myself. The problem is, talking to myself is rather boring and makes the people around me think that I'm nuts." He chuckled but Severus heard the bitterness in it.

"I am there now," said Severus quietly, looking into the other's golden pools. Remus seemed surprised for a moment, then he smiled warmly and intertwined their fingers.

"Yes, you are," he said happily.

"And I will be," Severus continued, implying that even Remus's probable leaving the school at the end of the year wouldn't change that. The werewolf nodded.

"I will be there for you, too. Always," he replied and when they kissed it was deeper and longer than before, making Severus think that it would never stop. It did, though, because Remus knocked over the wine with his knee, spilling the liquid all over their robes as he leant into Severus's hand on the small of his back, trying to press both forward against Severus's torso and back into his arm. He got up, apologising, and gathered up the glass shards from the floor until Severus, who had watched him in annoyed amusement for a while, waved his wand to make the mess disappear.

"Clumsy werewolf," he muttered and Remus scratched the nape of his neck, blushing slightly.

"That's just you making me nervous," the Gryffindor replied with a wink, startling Severus into silence. Remus smiled and sat down again leaving a few inches between them to spend the rest of the night in silence with the Potions master, watching him read, until he left at about one in the morning.

On Saturday, Slytherin won over Ravenclaw in the first Quidditch match of the new term, taking first place in the fight for the cup. While watching the game, Remus, sitting beside Severus, had silently cheered the team on, if for Severus's pleasure or because he had really wanted them to win, Severus didn't know but it added up to his satisfaction. After congratulating his team, Severus found Remus waiting for him in his office, sitting on his desk, asking if he was in the mood for a celebration, holding up two bottles of Butterbeer. Severus accepted, even though he didn't really like the sweet liquid, and ended up nuzzling the exposed place where jaw line curved into neck, eager to be warmed by Remus's skin, glad this time that he never wore a scarf.

Remus chuckled, holding him in place with his hand on Severus's neck, and informed him that if his reaction were like that after every victory he would almost be tempted to hope for Gryffindor's defeat in the last game of the season. Severus accepted the hug he gave him only minutes after that, getting up to leave. The warmth was welcome after the match in the cold January weather, and it stayed with him even after Remus had closed the door behind himself.

On Sunday, he stood in the office again, wishing Severus a 'happy birthday' which startled the Slytherin; usually only Albus thought of his birthday and that Remus had remembered it felt somewhat special. He received yet another volume of the Potions book Remus had given him for Christmas and when he asked how many of them Remus kept hidden in his rooms the werewolf just winked and told him that he would have to turn fifty before he ran out of special books. In his stunned gratefulness Severus even let Remus sit on his desk so close to his left arm that his thigh was touching his elbow while he got the rest of his work done for the next week, probably giving far better marks than usual.

It became a ritual that after every Patronus lesson the werewolf would shuffle in without permission and slump down next to Severus wherever he was. In some nights he was very silent, just staring at some point or another, and Severus knew he was thinking about his past. In other nights, though, he babbled on and on about Patronuses and Potter and whatever came to his mind, uncaring that Severus merely nodded or tried to ignore him, continuing whatever he had been doing until the werewolf had come in, simply in need for somebody to be with. Severus had the impression that everything the other hadn't been able to tell in the last decade was now being spilt to him, his confidant. It was satisfying somehow, though unnerving sometimes. He shouted at Remus more than once – regretting his tone just a little, afterwards – that he should stop thinking that Severus was interested in Potter, no matter if father or son.

It made the other fall silent for a few minutes and change the subject when he started talking again, trying to make Severus engage in the conversation. Nevertheless, Severus enjoyed his company and his voice talking so eagerly or its silence ringing in his ears, and he was more and more inclined to let Remus's arms encircle his waist from behind while he was brewing a potion or to kiss Remus's jaw when his face was worried, making the werewolf lean in and against him.

He couldn't keep his nastiness to himself, though, and made the other angry once or twice by implying, for instance, that he was better off without his treacherous friends or that the screams of Potter's dying parents in the boy's ears would perhaps make him a little more modest and grateful. Remus's face darkened considerably then and he brought a vast distance between them, though he didn't leave, just gave a deadly calm retort and waited a few minutes until Severus's folded arms sank again along with his scowl, and his black eyes signaled that he regretted his words. Not because he hadn't meant them, but because he had chased the werewolf away, Severus was sure that the other knew that, and he felt rather good with the fact that Remus's priorities were set like this. If they hadn't been, they would probably have spent most of their joint time sitting on opposite sides of the sofa.

Severus knew that Remus came to him after the lessons with Potter because he felt vulnerable and depressed, being reminded over and over again of the worst time of his life. They were very intimate moments and Severus appreciated his decision to spend them in the dungeons with him although he was usually cold and distanced when Remus told him about his experiences with the boy or his own memories of the deaths of his friends. All four of them, since he had stated that Black was dead to him, too.

The Potions master knew what it meant to Remus, always wearing his fake cheerfulness in front of others, to let his guard down and just be profoundly sad or upset. It meant letting Severus in on something no one was supposed to see, sharing it with him to relieve the pain. With him rather than with anyone else.

"You know, Severus," said the werewolf one evening, burying his face in the crook of Severus's neck muffling his voice with the fabric of the black robes, "you give me all the things that I've wished for, during those many past years. It is so perfect, having you to _be_ with."

Severus, who had put his arms round the werewolf rather helplessly when he had suddenly pressed up against him, didn't know what to reply. He didn't know exactly what he was giving, he only knew what he was receiving, nothing had changed that, even though he had slowly started to be more physically affectionate. He thought that he understood what the other meant, though. They both longed, craved for someone to be themselves with, to share everything with. Severus had learnt that it was a magnificent feeling to do so. Relieving and healing and downright pleasurable. They hadn't reached the point of sharing quite everything, though, and Severus didn't know if they ever would. He was reserved, still, like he had been all along, mistrusting and careful. But he wasn't the only one to keep things from the other, hide them from his eyes.

On the next full moon Severus just couldn't resist his curiosity and the urge it incited to linger in the other's office after having been sent out just as the transformation started, when the moon's first light fell in through the windows, touching the werewolf's mellow skin. He had slowly walked out of the sitting room and heard Remus's strain to keep his pain silent until the door had closed behind him. Now the Slytherin, true to his nature, was pressing his ear against the wood, preventing it from transforming back to stone, and listened to the screams of anguish that came from the werewolf's still human lips.

He pushed himself off the door before he could hear any wolfish howls and watched the wood vanish in the stone wall. He stood staring at the grey wall for a few long moments, feeling some cold wave welling up in his stomach as the screams echoed in his head. He felt guilty for having spied like that, on something which was obviously not meant for his ears. And he felt pained, suffering with the gentle man who was so bright and good and delicate. The sound of his hoarse voice breaking at its very top almost made Severus feel the stretching of sinews, the tearing of muscle, the splintering of bone. It was miraculous that Remus could survive month after month of this torture which was breaking his thin, fragile body and shattering his self-control, forcing him to scream to be able to bear the agonising pain.

Deciding not to let Remus know of the fact that he had been eavesdropping, Severus left for the dungeons, preparing for a night spent restless and unsleeping. He made sure that his best painkilling potion was ready for the morning and standing beside the Invigorating Draught. Most unlike himself Severus swore that he would respect Remus's wish not to reveal certain things to him, just like the werewolf respected the same in him, and that he would wait patiently until the other decided to share even those last secrets with him. And Severus would be ready and prepared when he did, ready to be there and give instead of receiving, prepared for whatever chasm the other needed to be pulled out of or joined in.


	21. Gryffindor Traits

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Gryffindor Traits**

It was the protruding collarbone that caught his attention. It was not merely the naked skin that attracted his eyes, and it was not just the long scar running up from somewhere beneath the tee-shirt over the werewolf's chest to the crook of his neck. It was the shape of the bone that appealed to him, curving like the werewolf's upper lip, from the shoulder to the deep hollow in the middle, soft and round, so clearly visible under the pale skin.

Severus reached out a hand, transfixed, and ran his fingertips over the exposed skin, feeling the solid bone underneath its soft cover. His eyes narrowed at the touch and he felt strangely thrilled by it, a surge of odd pleasure washing over him. He let his index finger sink into the valley below Remus's throat and his fingertips ghosted under the collar of the tee-shirt, sliding it aside. Severus paused then and let his eyes sweep over the curves that seemed to form a mild smile, matching the one constantly present in the Gryffindor's face.

Severus's lips had curled into a puzzled smile of their own before he could prevent it, his fingers still resting on the delicate yet firm line, so intriguing to him, so surreal in spite or maybe because of the contact of their skin. It was a soft sigh that brought him back to reality and his fingers followed his eyes as they wandered up over Remus's throat to his jaw and his cheekbone, remaining there for a moment before withdrawing.

Remus's golden eyes fluttered open, blinded at first by the bright light flooding in through the windows until Severus moved so that his body blocked the rays on their way to the other's face. The sigh was repeated when the golden orbs found Severus's black tunnels and the corners of the werewolf's mouth quirked upwards.

"…erus," Remus croaked, his voice failing him at the first syllables and he cleared his throat. "Glad you're here."

Severus inclined his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes falling to the other's collarbone again which disappeared under the fabric of the shabby tee-shirt when the werewolf shifted and sat up with a wince. As he drank the two potions Severus had brought with him, his eyes roamed the Potions master's face and when he had drained the bottles he gave Severus an inquiring look.

"Your expression is unusually mild today, Severus. Has anything pleasant occurred?" he asked and the Slytherin averted his eyes.

"No," he said shortly and tried not to give in to the blush forcing its way into his cheeks. With considerable effort he put his indifferent darkness back in place but when he directed his gaze back at the werewolf his hand moved on its own and brushed against the marred skin of Remus's neck, flicking his tee-shirt out of the way as his white fingers crawled further down tracing the many scars like a spider's legs that balanced over the strings of a web. Remus leant into the touch and pressed Severus's hand firmly to his neck.

Severus was fascinated by how the way Remus's body was shaped emphasised the gracefulness of his movements, how his lean frame was enfolded in the white sheets as if they were trying to protect him from all harm, from Severus's too rough hands and lips and eyes. When Severus tried to withdraw his hand he was pulled on top of Remus with a yank on his arm and as he scrambled to get up again, flustered, the werewolf's chuckle so close to his ear and the scratching of the other's stubble against his cheek made him freeze. The body underneath his own was so warm and the arms that held him close were so unreal; Severus felt like a beggar whose bag had been filled with a thousand Galleons instead of one Knut.

Severus's heart beat quickened and he knew that this time he had lost the battle against his blush. Remus's hands snuck under the outer layer of his black robes and ran up his back to seize the fabric over his shoulders. Severus could feel the werewolf's every rib under his own, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. Remus pressed his face into Severus's neck and winced when the Potions master relaxed and his weight came down fully onto him. Severus pushed himself up and away from Remus who looked a little rueful at his giving away that he was in pain.

"Ah, after the moon I always feel so sore…" he said with a grin and rubbed his ribcage. Severus considered him, trying to calm his heart, then he got up and smoothed out his robes.

"I need to prepare my classes. If you need anything more, do call me through the floo," he said and swept off. The werewolf's sight, the soft outline of his body, the delicate curve of his neck melting into his collarbones streaming down to the base of his throat like brooks to a lake, didn't leave his mind all day and all night.

As February went on, Severus felt his eyes glued to Remus all the time, trying to peel off the collar of his robe from his neck with pure will power whenever he sat opposite him in the staff room watching him read or look out of the window. When he caught himself doing so he would scowl but couldn't stop staring and remembering how the other had looked in the thin tee-shirt, surrounded by the sheets in his bed. Such inappropriate thoughts! He only barely managed not to blush when the Headmaster laid his hand onto his shoulder and said, "A nice sight, isn't it, my boy?"

The Potions master turned and looked up into those twinkling blue eyes sitting in that old face which was wrinkled in an annoyingly knowing grin. He gave the old man his most deathly glare. "What in Salazar's name do you mean, Headmaster?" Severus snapped, trying to sound as if he had not been enjoying any sight at all.

"Why, the snow of course, what else would I mean?" said Albus with a wink and Severus's face darkened. With a pat on his back Albus walked away and left Severus redirecting his eyes at Remus who was fiddling with his cravat while reading a book with his right index finger tracing the lines.

"Pray tell, Remus, how do you manage not to be affected by Severus's murderous glares?" Minerva McGonagall's voice said and the werewolf lifted his head, tearing his eyes away from the pages of his book only reluctantly.

"Murderous?" he asked glancing at Severus with a smile. "Well, apart from the fact that I don't believe that this particular look was provoked by my person… as long as Severus doesn't find a way to kill with his eyes, I don't see a reason to worry." He shot Severus a wink and the Potions master folded his arms and averted his eyes. With a laugh McGonagall moved on to sit down beside Flitwick.

"Actually I'm quite glad that your looks cannot kill, Severus," chuckled Remus.

"You wouldn't be the one to feel that effect, never fear," Severus muttered and took hold of his cup of coffee on the table.

"It is not I who makes you glare, is it?" the werewolf said in a slightly worried tone but when Severus met his eyes his brow softened.

From further down the table a conversation reached their ears. "Potter asked me for his broom _again_. I really hope that it will not take much longer until I can give it back to him, Filius," McGonagall said.

"I'll do the last tests as fast as possible, Minerva," Flitwick replied in his squeaky voice. "But you do agree with me when I say that safety is more important than giving the broom back too quickly."

A sigh was heard from the witch's mouth. "Yes, but I _am_ anxious as to the Quidditch game at the end of the month."

"Of course you are, Minerva, but Sirius Black shouldn't be underestimated," Albus said with a smile audible in his voice.

Severus turned his cup round and round while listening, staring at Remus's scarred fingers lightly holding the page he was reading, ready to turn it. His soft, hoarse voice made Severus look up at his face.

"I don't think the broom is cursed."

"Oh?" Severus said, raising an eyebrow. "And why would that be? Is it a hidden talent of yours to recognise cursed brooms?"

The werewolf shrugged, eyes never leaving the book. "Isn't it a little too obvious? Sending a broom anonymously? He must have known that it would be confiscated…"

Severus took a sip of coffee. "Maybe he was desperate because of his failure at Hallowe'en."

"I don't know… it would be a great risk buying that broom."

"Insensible behaviour is exactly what occurs when one is desperate!" Severus snapped impatiently. "Or do you know anyone else who would send the boy the most expensive broom on the market?"

"I don't. But maybe it was a benevolent sympathiser," Remus said calmly.

"You mean such as yourself?"

"No, not me," the werewolf said, finally raising his eyes. "You know that."

Severus scowled at him. "Do I?"

Remus didn't answer, just went back to reading with a slight downward quirk of his lips. Severus couldn't help it, he just wasn't a friendly person and he was even less so when Black was the topic of a conversation and least so when Remus spoke of the madman as if he were clever and cunning instead of crazy and evil.

On the last Thursday before the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match Severus returned to his sitting room in the evening having finished the brewing of the day very late, only to find the werewolf sitting on his sofa with a half-empty bottle of Butterbeer and the box of nougats Severus had given him for Christmas. Remus smiled vaguely when their eyes met and got up, his shabby robes falling around his thin frame like a curtain around a work of art, concealing his graceful body.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Severus. I couldn't wait for your permission. I felt… lonely and… upset," he mumbled when Severus approached him.

"I know that I will regret the question but, what happened?" Severus drawled and stepped past him to sit down. Remus lowered himself beside him and held out a nougat to him which he declined.

"Harry makes good progress with the Charm, though he doesn't believe so himself. I keep assuring him that he does a good job but he thinks he should be able to manage the spell perfectly in such a short time."

"Arrogant brat," Severus snapped and was ignored.

"He asked me about Dementors. Wanted to know what's under their hood, so I told him what I know and that the Dementor's Kiss will be Sirius Black's punishment… Harry is of the opinion that he deserves that fate," Remus continued, his voice bitter even though his mouth was full of sugar.

"And you do not agree?" asked Severus incredulously. "_You_ of all people?"

Remus's amber eyes narrowed and wandered up to his face. "To get your soul sucked out is not a fate I would wish upon even my worst enemy."

"It astounds me that you question this punishment, after all, he betrayed you and your friends and killed thirteen Muggles. Shouldn't he suffer something much worse than the redemption of death?" Severus replied and Remus rubbed his forehead.

"I think that there is nothing good in it. I don't even want to imagine how it must feel to lose one's soul. No wizard, no matter how wise or just, should be allowed to decide who is to lose their soul, whose _existence_ should be wiped out, in this world _and_ the next. If killing is unforgivable then destroying another human being completely, with nothing left but an empty shell should be so, as well. Otherwise, all of us, even the innocent, have to fear that fate. And you, Severus, who values the soul so much, do you really believe that anyone deserves that? Even Sirius? Or that anyone is entitled to make that decision." His amber eyes were piercing Severus and he knew that it was his soul as well that Remus feared to be destroyed for the crimes he had committed.

Severus considered him, his slightly parted lips, his anxious eyes, his delicate fingers, clutching at Severus's outer robe. "I think that for ruining another person's life… for hurting them, tearing them apart… it might feel good for that person to know that the one who did it to them is suffering the worst punishment possible."

"Revenge?" Remus asked and took one of Severus's hands between his own, surely knowing that Severus had not been talking only about Potter. "It is a vile sentiment, it might be sweet at first but… the aftertaste is bitter."

"Wasn't it you who told me something about the aftertaste of a sweet experience being unimportant?" Severus retorted with a smirk and Remus chuckled.

"Yes, alright, but that was different. I… I'm horrified at the thought that I could lose my whole being… all emotion, all memory…"

"I doubt that you will ever come close to that experience," said Severus quietly, hoping rather than knowing it. Hoping that the soul he was loved by would never be stolen or destroyed by anything or anyone. It would mean his own soul's death, too. "Werewolf souls are said to be rather bad tasting," he added and Remus chuckled again.

"I just don't think a child should say such a thing. It was as if Harry knew what Sirius has done. Although he cannot know, Dumbledore said that he wasn't told about Sirius's betrayal," Remus said after a long pause.

"McGonagall and the others had a talk about it when they were visiting the Three Broomsticks… Perhaps his friends overheard the conversation," Severus offered and Remus nodded slowly.

"Perhaps…" he mumbled, then smiled slightly. "Harry has his broomstick back, by the way. Minerva's told me."

Severus scowled. "That must make you happy of course," he growled and made the werewolf laugh.

"See? It wasn't hexed, jinxed or cursed. Just a very nice gift. A gift that might just bring Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup if your team doesn't watch out, Severus!"

The Potions master shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Would you refrain from taking sides?" he snarled.

"You do, too! And you certainly didn't complain when I was cheering on Slytherin last game!" Remus protested.

"I am supposed to take sides, as a Head of House!"

"Right, I forgot. I just keep forgetting that you are indeed Head of House… it is so… unlike you," Remus said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean to say?" Severus said and pulled his hand away from the werewolf's.

"I mean, you are responsible for the wellbeing of many children, aren't you? You have to listen to their woes and you have to talk to their parents and give them Career's Advice and so on. When I see you, I see a man who is not all too fond of his students, who wishes to be left alone and in peace instead of having to deal with children's troubles. That is why I was surprised to hear that you are Head of House," Remus explained, trying to take hold of Severus's hand again. "But then again… probably you like your Slytherins, right? You like things in them that you like in yourself. Because they're Slytherins like yourself."

"You might be right," Severus said, letting Remus take his hand. "Other than you I am quite selective as to who I put my liking in. You are much more generous in that field, you like all of your students, don't you?"

"Yes… though Draco is a little annoying at times, no respect for his elders," Remus chuckled and Severus felt his breath so close to his ear again. "Well, I guess he cannot help it. Education."

"Like father, like son," Severus agreed and dearly hoped that that didn't apply to himself. A gentle hand brushed the curtain of black hair out of his face and Severus turned to look at the werewolf whose mild eyes were maddeningly serene and calming.

"If my friends had seen me cheering on Slytherin in January… they would have been very furious," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over Severus's cheekbone.

"Would you have stopped?" Severus asked.

"No, I would have told them that I liked cheering on Slytherin, although – or maybe because – their Seeker was somewhat blind, their Beaters were far too fierce and rough, and their Chasers were too timid. After all, their Keeper provided a safe, firm hold. So I would have told them to sod off," Remus answered and kissed Severus lightly. On Friday morning Severus greeted the werewolf, who had fallen asleep curled up at his side, with a cup of very sweet tea. All night the Slytherin had stayed awake, fighting sleep so he wouldn't have to loosen his firm hold around the other's shoulders.

The game on Saturday went disastrous, of course. Not only did Gryffindor win (after a horribly long time of Remus cheering them on under his breath in his seat next to Severus, turning and squirming as if he were sitting on a broom himself), no, Draco and his brainless friends played Dementor and walked onto the pitch (he would let them clean cauldrons by hand, and make sure to let his students brew especially sticky potions next week). And as if that hadn't been enough annoying and house-humiliating occurrences, the Potter boy conjured some wispy mass of an almost-Patronus which impressed the werewolf so much that he ran down onto the pitch immediately to congratulate him in such a disgustingly fatherly manner that the Potions master had to turn away. Severus was fuming when he swept after Dumbledore to McGonagall who was screaming at Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Slytherin's soon to be ex-Quidditch team captain Flint who had lost their house an extraordinary number of points, the morons.

After shooting them all some deathly glares and letting McGonagall rant at him for not being able to control his students ("As if I were the only one whose students are out of bounds! Strange that the _Gryffindors_ always _receive_ points for breaking the rules!" he snapped which only lengthened the rants about _her_ students acting with the motive of _boldness_ and for the _right_ reasons and not like _his _out of malice and with foul tricks; what was he to retort, really?) he glided off into his dungeons and was met at the gates to the Entrance Hall by a beaming Remus Lupin, hands in his pockets, the white of his teeth just as blinding as the snow that surrounded him.

"Good game, don't you think, Severus?" he called. "I found especially entertaining the little show near the end."

Severus sent him his most dangerous glare. "Do not try my patience, Professor Lupin," he growled when he passed him and Remus hurried to keep up with his angry strides.

"Oh, come on, Severus, it was just a joke. Don't take it so seriously," he smiled and followed the Slytherin all the way down into his quarters where Severus turned to face him, his hands stemmed into his sides. The last thing he needed in his rooms now, where he wanted to relax and find peace after the stress of the morning, was an all too smug and happy Gryffindor, sitting on his sofa with his back so straight that it could be used as a table. But no, not smug, _proud_ was the right word.

"And what exactly do you want here?" he snapped and Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Why, celebrate, of course," he said and received a look that would have made anyone else burst into flames on the very spot. "Or at least, um, have a cup of tea… as you have well stated the other day, I may not take sides, therefore I may not celebrate and can as well stay with you and watch you sulk. Maybe I'll even manage to cheer you up."

"McGonagall, I am sure, would appreciate your company in her own celebrations over whiskey and shortbread, why do you not honour _her_ with your cheery presence?" Severus snarled, annoyed at the way the other's tattered scarf (so he _did_ possess one!) slipped off his neck, revealing so much skin that it put him off for a moment.

"Oh, she would never approve. And to be honest… I'd rather be with you. It's quiet, that's very nice after the exhilarating noise of a Quidditch match," Remus replied and reached behind Severus who was barring the door to his rooms with his body, turned the knob and pushed against Severus's chest to force him into the room, making him protest only half-heartedly.

Severus watched as Remus shed his outer robe and laid it over the back rest of one of the armchairs by the empty fireplace. The werewolf hadn't been in his rooms very often and only in the sitting room; nevertheless he seemed rather comfortable as he sat down on the sofa and pulled on Severus's sleeve to make him sit down beside him. Remus pressed his side close to Severus's, shivering with the freezing cold of the dungeon and Severus raised his wand to set fire in the grate.

They sat in silence for a very long while, only the fire was whispering until the rustling of Remus's robes attracted Severus's attention; the other man was loosening his cravat and his collar slid apart to reveal that pale skin which felt just like silk when touched. And, oh, how Severus wanted to touch it. Just reach out and run his yellowish fingers over it. His fingers, stained with potions and ingredients, his fingers which had touched many a disgusting object, which had let the magic surge through them and had directed it at many a man or woman to strike and kill. Touch this pure white skin, scarred with the signs of agony caused by a werewolf's desperate determination to suffer instead of tearing apart, the signs of what made them so similar. The silky skin, marred like the silky soul inside that lithe body. The beauty of it matched the werewolf's inner one, mild and delicate, careful and understanding; just as Severus's sallow skin and his deathly pallor mirrored the foul ugliness of his personality. The werewolf was beautiful in and out and Severus was ugly, there was no _inner_ beauty that could make him attractive despite his outer appearance, it was as if his looks showed what was inside, like the glass jars in his office showed their horrible contents. Severus might find use for them but hadn't the other been appalled by them the very first time he had been to his office? Not that Severus would ever have cared, but now he did.

He didn't dare touch Remus at all. Just stared at the palms of his hands. Cold and empty. A thrill ran through his body when Remus's knee touched his, when his left palm was filled with Remus's right hand, warm and reassuring.

"What are you brooding about again?" Remus's hoarse voice asked. A quick glance at the other was too much already, his eyes had been caught and even though the Potions master looked away again quickly he knew that Remus had seen something, everything probably. He wanted to withdraw his hand but his arm wouldn't comply. He scowled at his shoes and kneaded his brow with his right hand.

"Nothing," he growled between clenched teeth, angry with the other for making him feel so insufficient all the time. For making him _want_ but not _dare_. He wasn't a Gryffindor, he wasn't daring, he didn't rush into anything without contemplation; and that always made him falter. He would never have believed that one day he would wish for those Gryffindor traits: Chivalry, to impress and attract; Daring, to act on his impulse and plunge into unknown rooms by bursting open heavy doors that might be locked or slammed shut in his very face; Bravery, to make advances and say all the things that didn't reach his lips; and Nerve, to see all of it and more through. Now he did wish for all of that. Maybe he possessed it in times of war, but he couldn't transfer it to this situation. He wished he could. He wished for anything that would drive the unworthy feeling from his body.

"You wanted tea?" he muttered and waved his wand to make two cups and a kettle appear. He could sense Remus's tension at his change of subject but the werewolf just hummed in agreement, accepting the cup that hovered into his hands.

Remus got up and walked over to one of the windows where there stood a low, spindly-legged table with black and white tiles to play chess on. He considered it for a while before he turned to the Potions master with a smile. "What about chess?" he asked pleasantly.

Severus followed him and opened a drawer under the tabletop to take out two bags of chess pieces. "You won't stand a chance against me," Severus said drily, a faint smirk on his lips.

"We will see," Remus replied, sitting down at the table. "You begin."

As the werewolf opened the bag of black chess pieces there was a noisy scream of protest from them. A werewolf to command the troops? And look at his robes! But Master Snape must be out of his mind! Didn't they always serve him well? What kind of treatment was that? Severus grew livid at their respectless calls but Remus just chuckled, prodding the little king in the back to make him walk to his place with furious screams; only when Severus had silenced them with the threat of giving them to Hagrid's boarhound as chewing toys if they didn't stop behaving disrespectfully towards _Master_ Lupin, could they finally start playing (not without a few snide remarks from the white pieces directed at the black ones, very much like Severus's own would have sounded).

"I see your chess pieces have adapted your sharp tongue," Remus smiled and Severus rolled his eyes. "Thank you but I think I know what I am doing, now, would you please move on to where I said?" he added, amused at the little knight, trying to tell him that he would _strongly_ recommend to send him somewhere else if he didn't want him to be doomed.

Severus was a strategically skilled player and hard to beat so it surprised him that Remus had almost checkmated him four times (accompanied by the pathetic wailing of the white king) before Severus finally found a gap in his defences to slip through and get his king. It took him an hour to beat the werewolf which hurt him a little in his pride but at least he had won.

"Not a chance. You were absolutely right, Severus," Remus smiled and folded his arms across his chest.

"Ah, yes," replied Severus lazily, "I had forgotten that to you Gryffindors it is not only the result that counts. 'It does not matter that I lost, at least I put up a good fight!' Is that what makes you so proud when you look upon the boy?"

Remus rested his chin on his hands and considered him carefully. "What of his father do you see in him that makes you hate him so?"

Severus snorted irritably. "How many times do we have to talk about that?" he snapped. "I see this arrogant boy strutting about the castle, admired by everyone for his talent at Quidditch and the defeat of the Dark Lord that was not even his own achievement! Loved by all, Mr Potter, and enjoying it thoroughly with that inflated head of his, respectless and ungrateful. And you ask me what of his father I see in him? Why, everything, Remus, all about him!"

Remus kept quiet for a while receiving the reproachful glares from his chess pieces, half of which were limping or leaning on each other or holding their heads. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. "Jealousy is not necessary, Severus."

"I am not –" Severus protested but was interrupted as Remus carried on.

"Not for my job, or the Potters' popularity and talent at Quidditch or even Gilderoy Glamour Boy's good looks." He paused with a slight smile when Severus shot him a deathly glare mixed with appalled incredulity.

"Why would I be jealous?" he growled and Remus nodded.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Severus. You have no reason," he said firmly and touched his cheek. "None at all."

Severus stared at him, his eyes shackled to Remus's golden pools, and he wondered just what the other saw in him that made him say such things. And whether he would like to be told such things, too. After a few moments he rose, averting his eyes and smoothing out his robes as he turned away from the table and the werewolf.

"If you'll excuse me," he said quietly, running the side of his thumb over his forehead, "I have to get a bit of work done."

"Will you brew?" Remus asked and as Severus nodded over his shoulder he continued, "Would it be alright if I stayed? I like the sound of your brewing and the smell."

Severus turned again in startled surprise. "Is that so?" he asked trying to sound sarcastic instead of amazed. Remus smiled and took his tea cup to sit back down on the sofa. "Well… alright, but you will not disturb me. And do _not_ touch anything in my absence!" Remus chuckled and shrugged and Severus went into his lab, leaving the door ajar.

Now and then Severus stole a glance at the other sitting on the sofa with outstretched legs and closed eyes, ears twitching at the sound of the chopping knife in Severus's hand. When he listened closely he could make out Remus's even breathing until the simmering of the cauldrons grew too loud. As soon as he had lost the sound he found himself hurrying to be able to return to the one who was waiting for him in his sitting room, waiting for him to finish his work and sit next to him; the unknown feeling of being _home_ was insuppressible.

Nevertheless dark had already fallen and lunch and dinner had been missed when Severus emerged from his lab and found Remus still in his place and eyes still closed. The only time he had moved had been to bring Severus a platter with sandwiches to make sure he ate something. Severus had been grateful and oddly touched by the caring act and he had kissed Remus very tenderly and run his hand slowly over his spine to the small of his back, neglecting one of his cauldrons for almost a little too long. The werewolf, after having eaten a sandwich of his own, had resumed his earlier position and now it looked as if he had never left it. Severus wondered if he might have fallen asleep and gripped the backrest just behind his ear.

"You finished?" Remus muttered hoarsely and Severus withdrew his hand. "You going to sit with me again?"

Severus stepped round the sofa and lowered himself beside the werewolf who cracked one eye open to peer at him with a sleepy smile.

"I still have to grade some papers," Severus said and earned a tired sigh.

"Alright. Would you mind my staying?"

"No… do stay if you like," Severus replied dismissively and summoned a pile of scrolls of parchment.

"You know, Severus… I'm so relaxed now… I could fall asleep on the spot."

And that was what he did only minutes later, sliding to the left and onto Severus's shoulder, making the Potions master's quill quiver and spill a stain of red ink onto Fred Weasley's not-too-bad Potions essay. Severus took a deep breath, vanished the stain and scratched on, for how long he didn't know, time seemed to be non-existent with the werewolf's breath against his ear.

It must have been well past one in the morning when he was finally finished and vanished the parchment with a tired flick of his wand which rose Remus whose head slipped off Severus's shoulder. Resting his elbows on his knees Remus rubbed his eyes groggily and passed a hand over his neck; Severus's eyes were glued to the pale skin once again. Before he could prevent it his thoughts had wandered off and underneath the tattered robes trying to imagine what exactly was hidden under them, apart from the neck and arms and collarbones. And would the other show it to him? To _him_? And did he want to show Remus what was hidden under his own robes in exchange? He wasn't sure. Though Remus had already seen the ugliest part of him. When his hand moved towards Remus's temple and took a slightly curled lock of golden grey hair between thumb and index finger his black eyes narrowed, his fingers sliding down the soft strand, his knuckles touching the silky skin, so white against the yellow stains on his own.

Severus made to withdraw his hand but it was caught by one of Remus's and the golden drills of Remus's eyes bored into the stony granite of Severus's.

"_Don't_ falter," Remus whispered, suddenly wide awake again. "There is no need."

And then Severus saw something in those usually so confident and strong eyes that surprised him; a weak flicker, weary, even frightful, quickly suppressed again by a short blink but definitely present as if it had slipped from behind a curtain. A nervous smile followed, covered up just as quickly. Severus raised an eyebrow. Remus chuckled.

"You are the most intimidating, Severus," he said, his voice very firm and void of the emotions he had lost control of. "Thank Merlin I'm a Gryffindor. It's not the glares or the words or even the temper. It's like chess with you. Whenever I make a move it must be contemplated carefully, I must study you intently to prevent being checkmated already before the second move. And in the end I'm afraid you might beat me. Being better at games. Especially now that you know how I play… in no time, all my pieces might lie beside the board broken."

Severus considered him. "I am sure that you will never run out of queens, while all I have is pawns that I try hard not to move too fiercely," he said quietly and raised Remus's chin. "But this is not a game."

"Glad you said that," smiled Remus. "No, it is not." The werewolf turned his head into Severus's hand and when it slid down to the collar of his robes, tracing his jaw, Severus shook his head.

"Stop it, Severus," Remus said seriously and the Slytherin looked up in bewildered agitation.

"What?" he snapped, seeing Remus's strangely stern face. A gentle hand came to rest on his cheek and he could barely resist the urge to press into it.

"You know what I mean… I said do not falter. There is no need for it. And I meant it when I said it."

Severus knew that yet again Remus had seen through him and knew exactly what he was thinking; it seemed as if he were clutching at his yellow hand to make him see that he didn't care at all. That he saw something that the others and even Severus himself couldn't see in him. Such a foolhardy man he was. So unreasonable and so _good_.

"You are really the most hopeless fool ever to have walked the stony floors of this castle," Severus said quietly and Remus chuckled.

"The most hopeless fool ever to have walked the stony path of your soul, my dear," Remus croaked and Severus let his fingers ghost over his red lips.

"This is so unreal," he muttered when Remus smiled in contentment. Severus pulled open the werewolf's cravat, letting it slide down Remus's neck. His fingers found the opening of the Gryffindor's collar and traced the tendons of the slender neck. Severus closed his eyes at the sensation and let Remus lean in to rest his forehead against his own when spidery fingers brushed the werewolf's collarbones and the deep hollow in their midst and pushed aside the annoying fabric to get better access to the silky, marred skin in the crook of Remus's neck. As one of his cold hands came to rest in the nape of Remus's neck their lips were drawn together by some kind of magnetic force and Severus could barely stifle a moan when the werewolf pulled him closer and on top of him as he leant back against the armrest cupping Severus's face with his gentle hands.

With a little start Severus realised that this was by far the most physically intimate moment they had ever shared, even more so than those after the full moons, at least to him. And with yet another start he realised what this could result in. He had never _really_ thought about it, too distant and too absurd had it seemed to him. Just like the possibility of Remus wanting to kiss him. Which had proven rather less absurd and distant in the end. Remus's soft moan, as Severus deepened the kiss further, was otherworldly beautiful. He didn't even notice the utter loss of his usual scowling countenance when he ran his fingers through that soft hair, when two delicate arms snaked around his neck, when he tried to merge his sallow skin with the pure silk under his burning fingers. Breathing had long been forgotten.

When Remus ran out of air he broke the kiss, panting, curling lanky coal black hair round his fingers. His smile seemed to flood his eyes and he didn't make an effort to hide the weak gleam in them now, the nervousness that his trained voice was so void of. "You're like snow, Severus," he breathed, "white and cold to the bare touch, and you melt on my skin."

And Severus did melt when their lips brushed once more and he pulled the cravat off Remus's shoulders. Or he would have melted, had they not been cruelly interrupted. A furious knock on the door of his laboratory made Severus start and both men shot up into a sitting position staring at the distant wooden door, miles away from where they were catching their breaths.

"Severus!" a woman's voice cried. "Severus, open quick!"

Severus jumped up and as he reached for his wand, the silken cravat slid out of his hand and fell to the floor. That blasted witch! He would get rid of her quickly to get back to the moment of… whatever it was with Remus. He smoothed his robes and hair and wrenched open the door, blocking the view into his rooms.

"What is it in the middle of the night?" he snapped irritably but when he saw the look of terror on McGonagall's face he fell silent.

"It's Sirius Black again, Severus! He's broken into the castle! With a knife! I'm rising all the other teachers right now!"

Severus stared and heard the rustle of robes from behind his back, Remus had stirred, was straining his ears most likely. But… he was there. In the dungeons. With Severus. Had been there all the time.

"What do you mean? He has broken in again? But how?" he asked in bewilderment and its origin was very clear to him.

"I don't know! All I know is that that irresponsible maniac Cadogan let him inside Gryffindor Tower!" A gasp in the sitting room, the ruffling of what seemed to be two hands in tousled hair. "And now we need to search the castle for him. Have you any idea where Remus is? I've been to his quarters but he didn't open."

Just when Severus opened his mouth the door was pulled open by a scarred hand. "I'm here, Minerva, I couldn't sleep so I asked Severus for a Sleeping Draught," said Remus hoarsely, his eyes bright with something that hadn't been caused by Severus's kisses. Minerva stared at the pair of them, her lips forming a silent 'oh'. "But what happened? How's Harry?" the werewolf added with – what was that in his voice? – guilt?

Minerva recovered quickly from her stunned silence and nodded. "The boy's alright. No one was hurt. Black went to the wrong bed. Ron Weasley would have been at the receiving end of his knife, had he not screamed and woken all the others. At first I thought it had all been just a bad dream, but Cadogan confirmed it. Longbottom left the passwords lying about and Black must have found them. That boy is a catastrophe."

Remus had listened to her account silently, but at the fact that Black had got the wrong bed he went tense and shook his head to himself. As if he couldn't believe that Black hadn't just killed all the boys, as the mass murderer he was. Or because… was that possibly disappointment? Anger? The werewolf passed a hand over his face and when McGonagall turned to leave they both assured her that they would go searching for Black.

Severus slammed the door shut and Remus hurried into the sitting room to gather up his outer robe. Severus watched him with narrowed eyes and when the other turned he wouldn't meet his black stare. Severus couldn't stop himself when he looked at the deserted sofa and Remus's fully dressed state. Black wasn't in the castle anymore such a long time after the attempted attack, there was no need to hurry; what was more, Severus didn't _want_ to search the castle, for once staying here with _him_ was more important than the mere chance of hexing Black to shreds; and his mood dropped considerably when Remus, who obviously didn't share his desire to stay, wanted to floo back to his rooms instead of resuming his seat on the sofa; his suspicious behaviour made him angry. No, he couldn't stop himself from saying what was on his mind.

"But you were here," he said quietly and Remus whirled round, understanding in an instant what he was implying. His face darkened.

"You are suspecting _me_?" said he, slightly agitated. "But from this morning on you never lost sight of me! How can you possibly believe that I –"

"Active help might be out of the question… but nevertheless… I think you know something about it," Severus interrupted him, thinking for a split second of how perfect an alibi this had given the werewolf.

Remus stared at him, hands shaking, eyebrows knitted and apparently absolutely speechless. Then he gave a shaky laugh and turned a little rubbing his forehead with a false smile that was replaced by a terribly disappointed frown when he faced Severus again.

"Why don't you trust me?" he asked calmly. "Is a little trust too much to ask?"

Severus glared at him. "I do not trust easily. I am careful. I trust Dumbledore… but I do not trust anyone else. And you do behave rather suspiciously. I cannot give you what you require," Severus replied just as calmly.

"I am sure that you thought the same thing about other things you gave to me. How can you be with me and suspect me at the same time?" Remus said sadly and took a handful of Floo powder from a tin on the mantelpiece.

"The trust you speak of is for naïve fools. And it has nothing to do with our –" he waved his hand helplessly, "– being together."

Remus shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "Of course it has Severus. Relationships do not work without trust. You might be able to kiss me but you won't be able to live with me. How – how can you _possibly_ love me if you still believe me to be a traitor, a criminal? How can you love me if you do not have the trust to believe me?"

"I never said that I love you," Severus's lips had formed the words before he knew it. He felt an unpleasantly cold chill when he saw Remus's expression change from despair into shock and back into calm disappointment.

"No, indeed," the werewolf said, his voice unusually cold, "but as you know, fortunately for you and me, I speak Snapish." His brow creased then and his voice became pleading, cutting into Severus's very soul. "Please. I'd give you anything. All of me. What about you? It is your move."

He tossed the powder into the fire and stepped into the green flames vanishing in the depths of the burning embers. Severus stared after him, his unfocused stare on the bricks in the back of the fireplace. He wanted all. All of _him_. But now it felt as if it were just out of reach. Remus wanted trust, but trust was the one thing Severus could not give, was too… scared to give, too Slytherin and too bitter to give. He wanted to give it. But something always seemed to make him back away. Black for instance. Memories. Life.

Severus turned away from the fireplace and buried his face in his hands. It was his move and the only thing he was sure of was how to checkmate and put an end to it all. It seemed as if the heat of the fire in his back didn't even penetrate him, as if it were being repelled by his black robes and his hard skin. As if the supply of Remus's warmth that he had stored inside of himself had run dry forever.


	22. Pools of Gold

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the passges borrowed from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Thank you so much for your _wonderful_ comments! I love to read them. This chapter took some time, but it was worth it. I hope that you'll agree :).

**Pools of Gold**

It did not help at all that Severus found Remus at exactly the same spot where he had been in the night of Hallowe'en, when he went to search the castle after all. He stayed in the shadows when he saw the werewolf lean against the one-eyed witch in resignation and then make his way back into the direction of his office. As much as Severus tried not to question Remus's loyalty, he could not help being suspicious and probing the statue when the other was out of sight. Even though he could not find anything, it all seemed very suspicious.

On Wednesday afternoon, when Severus was sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks, a cup of hot black coffee before him on the table and a paper in his hand whose articles about Black's break-in annoyed him immensely, Albus joined him without permission and out of nowhere, sitting down on the chair to his left.

"Hello, Severus, my boy," he said casually as if they met there every Wednesday. "I was rather surprised that you didn't come to talk to me about Remus the other day."

Severus glanced at him, his face darkening. "As you might have heard, Headmaster, Lupin was with me when the break-in took place."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, that's true of course but, nevertheless, I thought you might have told me that the rest of the day he was unaccounted for."

Severus folded his paper and laid it onto the table clearing his throat irritably. "Do you want me to complain, Headmaster?" he snapped at the older man. Albus of course didn't know about the alibi Severus had given Remus that day but it was a fact that, unfortunately, he _had_ given it to him. And as long as Severus didn't know in how far Remus was involved in that Black affair, there was no point in arguing about it with the Headmaster. Even though he was _sure_ that Remus was involved in some way.

Dumbledore gave him a shrewd look over his half-moon spectacles. "No, I thought that maybe you and Remus have – ah – made up?"

Severus snorted, ready to destroy that impression for, right now – and that was annoyingly painful– it wasn't accurate. "I think he knows something. Even if he does not help Black actively… I am sure he knows something that he refuses to tell," he said and took a gulp of coffee to wash away the foul aftertaste of those words.

"He will have his reasons," replied Albus. "I trust him that he will tell me if there is anything that would help us. And if he chooses not to, then I am sure he has his reasons and that just like you, Severus, he will do the right thing in the end even if he makes mistakes. Because of Harry and… well."

The old wizard rose with a knowing twinkle in his eyes and left Severus without another word. Severus stared. Sometimes he wondered just how much Albus really knew about them and whether he had some sort of spying device in all the teachers' quarters. When he returned to his paper he felt a pang of emptiness in his stomach where usually Remus's warmth was kept. He wondered if that was the end of the "we", how long Remus would wait for his trust, and whether he would be the one to approach Severus or if he had to do it himself, which he would probably fail at. He almost hoped to fall into a vanishing step now.

Once again the both of them had a silence hovering between them which was almost unbearable to Severus, therefore it came as a surprise when a warm hand slid into his own under the table and a warm body came close as the werewolf sat down beside him. Severus whirled round and almost withdrew his hand but then he realised the importance of keeping it in place. Against all odds Remus smiled. A sweet smile, though bitterly sad at the same time, and somewhat heavy.

"I hope you don't mind my presence, Severus," he said quietly. "I met Albus outside, he said you were here and I thought I could keep you company."

For a moment or two, Severus merely ogled him until he had recovered his spite. "Did I not mention that public meetings at Hogsmeade would not take place? People might think we are –"

"Having a date?" Remus interrupted him with a husky chuckle, one of those that sent Severus's spine tingling, even more so with the lack of a cravat around Remus's slender neck, giving him full view of it. "Don't worry, I will try to conceal my affection for you, you should try that, too."

Severus scowled. "Now, that's better. People who don't know you might actually believe that this look of yours is genuinely contemptuous," grinned Remus and the scowl turned into a glare. Though of course Remus was right. Severus didn't give him his _actual_ glares. The werewolf ordered a cup of hot chocolate and Madam Rosmerta glanced nervously at Severus and back to Remus as if she feared for his wellbeing.

"Are you angry with me?" Remus asked and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think so?"

"I… I didn't want to pressure you. I know you do not trust easily. And surely I should be happy with what I get, but… I felt somewhat betrayed and insecure," Remus said but Severus shook his head.

"Yes. You realise I am not the most sensitive man you could have chosen to… ah… fall in love with," Severus whispered the last words and felt odd saying them. Remus chuckled again and rubbed his thumb over Severus's palm making him feel as if he really were on a date.

"Yes, I know. That's not it, though. I understand what you think although you don't say it, you see. That night, though… you did say what you were thinking. That was what worried me."

"Why are you here then?" Severus asked, quickly turning over the paper so that Black's face was to the tabletop when Remus's eyes wandered towards it. "I have not changed my mind."

Remus smiled. "I know. But maybe you will. I am used to mistrust and I have patience. A lot of it. I will wait. Or did you think I would end this now? Don't you know? I can't. I love you. And… the happy moments outweigh the sad ones."

But for how long? Severus thought and looked down at their joined hands. And even then he saw the year's end and wondered whether the effort would be worth those few weeks. A world of agonising pain for one moment of utter bliss?

"You might regret it," Severus said.

"I might," replied Remus with a shrug. "Or I might not." He took his hot chocolate from Rosmerta with a smile and sipped on it. "Why don't you visit me on Saturday? I would like to spend the free time I have with you."

Severus nodded into his coffee and couldn't believe his luck. Yet again he had proven unworthy and yet again he had been caught in his fall by a safety net. When he visited Remus on Saturday, he couldn't stop thinking about his words, or rather his defensive snap, just before Remus had left on Sunday morning. 'I never said that I love you.' It had been true of course and yet he regretted the words. They had hurt the werewolf even if he claimed to understand Severus, there was nothing in that sentence that could be misunderstood. And that was what angered Severus. He was furious with himself because he had said something that had probably spoilt the natural, affectionate manner Remus had shown him. Now he was tense and careful, distanced and sad. Severus could as well have said, "I don't love you!" the effect would have been the same. Because even if Remus didn't care much about words and more about actions, what had happened on Sunday had affected him.

Mistrust _and_ cruel words. Severus's behaviour had been horrible and the Potions master was sure that it had made the other uncertain about their connection and Severus's true feelings. Though Severus didn't even know them himself, he felt awful and that was proof enough for him to know that he had reacted in defiant defence due to his being scared and suspicious, and his scratched pride rather than really meaning any of his words. The pride that he _needed_ to swallow if he wanted Remus. It was all too difficult for him. He was too one-dimensional at handling his emotions, had neglected and reduced them in order to avoid pain and now he had to deal with a man who was four-dimensional. He had even taken out a bottle of Felix Felicis from his storage to improve his luck, though he wasn't sure if it was fair to take it, if it was right; so he had stared at it for half an hour before removing the stopper.

Now he was standing in front of a bookshelf, staring at the spine of 'Wandering with Werewolves', trying to ignore the piercing eyes in his back. They hadn't touched at all yet, not even as a greeting. Severus was wrecking his brain, thinking about what he could do or say to make Remus turn back to normal, transfiguring the hot chocolate the werewolf had handed him into coffee. Sweet things reminded him too much of Remus's lips. He started. 'Wandering with Werewolves'? All brooding was forgotten when Severus pulled the book out of the shelf with his long thin fingers curling around the back to turn it. Gilderoy Lockhart's blasted smile was twinkling up at him and he could have ripped the book to shreds on the very spot.

"What is _this_?" he growled and held it up for Remus to see. The werewolf coughed into his hot chocolate and gave him an innocent grin.

"Why, I thought you had made his acquaintance last year, Severus, that is Gilderoy Lockhart," he said and laughed at Severus's deathly glare.

"What does _he_ do in _your_ bookshelf?" Severus asked with a disgusted and reproachful expression. "I thought you had taste… or at least common sense. Obviously I was mistaken."

"Oh, Severus, don't react as if you had just found the _real_ man in my bed," Remus said with a chuckle and Severus was rendered speechless with shock which made Remus laugh even more. "It is not what it looks like! I can explain: When it had just been published it was given to you in the bookshop I frequent when you bought two or more other books. And well… I thought, now that you have it, why don't you leaf through it?"

"'Why don't you?' Because it is utter rubbish!" Severus snapped, regaining his speech. "Why didn't you throw it away or burn it or blow it up?" To his great pleasure the Lockhart in the picture stared at him in panicked fear and sent imploring glances at Remus for help. The werewolf smiled.

"I was interested in what Lockhart had to say on my subject. And I must say I had a few good laughs… no, actually it was one _long_ laugh throughout the whole book," he said and the Lockhart in the picture looked at him scandalised. Severus turned the book over again so that he could look at the cover. It pleased him that Remus hadn't paid for such trash but still, he had kept it and Severus didn't want the glamour boy, as Remus called him, inside Remus's rooms where he could look even flashier beside Severus's hideous, dark form, even though the real man was locked up in a closed ward at St. Mungo's now.

Suddenly there was a warm hand on his arm and he looked up into Remus's soft eyes. "If you want to you can burn it. I don't need it. And actually I'm sick of the eager face on the cover trying to flash me a vain smile whenever I pull out one of the books beside this one. I really don't know what women find charming in him."

Severus managed a slight smirk and walked over to the fireplace to throw the book into it. Then he thought of acid and turned to Remus. "I will be right back. Hold this, I don't desire to be seen with it," he said and handed Remus the book.

The werewolf raised his eyebrows and caught Severus's arm. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to Severus's for a blissful moment and when he pulled back he said, "Maybe you haven't told me… but you need not say it, Severus. I know it."

A lead weight came off Severus's shoulders and felt thrilled when he saw the golden eyes shine and void of sadness, though he didn't know what exactly he had done to make Remus regain his certainty when he himself hadn't got it.

While on his way to his office he ran into Potter and Longbottom, the only third-years not allowed into Hogsmeade, in the third-floor corridor. Next to the one-eyed witch. As he inquired as to what they were doing there he checked for possible places to go, but the doors were all shut and he caught his suspicious eyes flicking to the statue. The thought that it meant something, considering both Remus's visits here and Potter's presence, didn't leave him, so after having sent the boys back to their common room he inspected the statue carefully, but could not make out anything out of the ordinary, so he just went to his office to get the acid and return to Remus's rooms, eager to burn the fraud's face off.

Remus laughed into Severus's shoulder, standing behind his back, gripping his arm, when the Potions master dripped the acid onto the book cover; if it was because of Lockhart's agony or Severus's cruelly amused smile, the Slytherin didn't know. It was a strong potion and it worked quickly but Severus enjoyed the look of horror on the picture-Lockhart's face immensely, when the glossy paper wrinkled away and the material dissolved into black smoke.

When it had vanished, Remus let go of Severus's arm and encircled his stomach with his arms, burying his face in the fabric between Severus's shoulder blades. He didn't let go of Severus for hours, murmuring into his back something that Severus thought – or hoped – sounded like "I love you" over and over again while Severus kept silent, indulging in the warm tingling sensation where the other's face was pressed into his spine. They just enjoyed the quiet time together without any need of conversation and Severus felt himself sinking into some sort of waking sleep, floating on the river of Remus's chanting declarations.

When it was well past noon Severus decided to return to his office to see if any student had got into trouble while visiting Hogsmeade and it cost him a great effort to make Remus let go of him. When he had taken a bit of Floo powder he turned and after a little hesitation he said, "Isn't your birthday approaching?"

Remus looked at him in surprise and gave him a vague smile. "Yes. Tenth of March."

Severus nodded and waved his hand searching for the right words. "What… would you like to have? As… a present?"

He scowled while saying it and it made Remus chuckle. "I don't need anything. But if you want to give me something then I am sure that you will find a proper present. You are good at choosing them, just look at the tea and the nougats…"

"The tea wasn't a present," Severus said in a mumble and Remus grinned, mischief visible in his eyes.

"No? What was it then? Wooing?" he asked and Severus rolled his eyes, embarrassed by the thought because actually it was true. "Anyway… if you want to give me something then just do. I don't like to wish for things, it is nicer to be surprised."

Severus nodded and left, not without having to promise to return. Severus wouldn't have needed to promise, he would have returned anyway because in that entrancing embrace he could forget for once that all the bliss was condemned to end either by Severus's lack of what Remus required or simply by the end of the school year which meant the loss of Remus's teaching position. He didn't see any good end to their relationship.

When he emerged from the fire in his office a wild-eyed and mud besmirched Draco Malfoy jumped up from the chair before the desk and ran towards him, shouting in a frantic voice that he had just seen Potter's head floating in the air while he had been talking to the youngest Weasley boy at the Shrieking Shack. Severus immediately knew what that meant, though he didn't quite understand it yet. He sent Malfoy back to his common room and set off for the third-floor corridor and just as he had expected he found the bespectacled youth standing next to the one-eyed witch, looking enormously guilty and as if he'd run a mile. Severus stopped in front of him, not even bothering to hide his triumphant feeling, and ordered the boy to follow him into his office. This time he wouldn't get away and maybe he would supply information to solve the mystery surrounding the third-floor corridor and Remus.

When Severus told Potter about what Malfoy had seen he received a few cheeky retorts that he countered with a speech about Potter being just like his father, ungrateful and arrogant. He almost lost his temper when the boy defended his father, shouting at Severus and acting as if he knew all about James bloody Potter. Severus cursed Albus for telling the boy half-truths that glorified the older Potter and he would not bear it this time.

"I would hate you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said and grinned mirthlessly, eager to let the boy know the truth. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you – your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had the joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts."

Severus was furious. Why hadn't they been expelled, anyway? Because Severus's life was worth less to Dumbledore than those of his precious Gryffindor boys, so bright and cunning? The only one who had been punished was himself… and Remus.

"Turn out your pockets, Potter!" Severus spat but the boy didn't move. How very telling. "Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the Headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!" The threat was effective and when the boy laid a bit of old parchment and a bag from Zonko's joke shop on the table Severus picked the latter up. Potter explained that it was something Weasley had brought him weeks before. Now that was very credible, wasn't it? Then Severus asked about the parchment and picked it up.

"Spare bit of parchment," said Potter shrugging and Severus turned it over.

"Surely you don't need such a very _old_ piece of parchment? Why don't I just – throw this away?" he said and turned to the fireplace but the boy stopped him. Potter was so easy to see through. Severus tried to find out what the parchment really was and after the third attempt, finally, something happened. And it didn't amuse him. Four different hands wrote four insulting messages and Severus knew only too well who they sounded like. Even if he hadn't known the ridiculous nickname, he recognised the first, untidy hand immediately because he had tried to forge it so many times on so many essays restraining himself from writing comments of his own under them.

"Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."

"Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."

"Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor."

"Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

Severus was so furious that it made him extremely calm. Like the wind stopped just before the storm came. "So…" said he softly. "We'll see about this."

The person he wanted to see most now to confront him with this was the one man this hand belonged to, Mr Moony, to tell him how little amused he was by the sentence on the parchment. It wasn't even Potter who made him angry anymore, it was the insult written by the one person who had never laughed at him, who had never wasted a word to comment on his looks. What did he care about the other three? He had had loads of that at school, not that he was indifferent to this piece of parchment bringing it all back to him not in the slightest scared or intimidated by his reaction, but his fury was directed at only one of the people on it. Or was it fury? Rather pain. It hurt, and that it affected him so made him furious. So he took a handful of Floo powder from the jar on his mantelpiece and threw it into the fire, keen to see how Remus would explain this and just how Potter had gained possession of it. Severus was _very_ interested in it.

"Lupin!" he therefore called into the fire, letting the werewolf know that he was not alone and not very happy with him by using his last name. "I want a word!"

A second later Remus's form emerged in the flames and the werewolf clambered out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his patched robes.

"You called, Severus?" he said in his mild voice but Severus would not let him soothe his temper.

"I certainly did," said Severus the fury rising back to the surface. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this." He pointed at the parchment and was rather agitated when he saw Remus's expression close as if he had let a curtain fall behind his eyes.

"Well?" Severus said and when Remus didn't answer and Severus saw that he was most probably making up an excuse he repeated himself, "_Well_?" He wouldn't let him make up anything convincing! He wanted an explanation, one that was honest and didn't drive him to suspicions. Of any kind. For example that it couldn't be a coincidence that Potter had been seen in Hogsmeade _and_ carried this suspicious piece of parchment, after all Remus and his friends had been famous for all kinds of pranks and silly magic tricks at school. Severus didn't want to suspect some kind of map behind that worn parchment, he didn't want to suspect that Remus knew how Potter got out of the castle and therefore, how Black could get in. It was already too late for that, though. And it seemed to him as though Remus was of the same opinion. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic," he continued to try and provoke some reaction. "This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?"

Finally the werewolf seemed ready to say something and with an _annoying_ silencing glance at Potter he said, "Full of Dark Magic? Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who tries to read it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke-shop –"

Severus grew even angrier at the blunt lie, he knew of course that Remus could not speak freely in front of the boy, but he didn't seem guilty at all, didn't give Severus a look that said 'We'll talk later', didn't play along with Severus but with Potter, whom he loved oh-so-much. He brazenly lied with that false smile plastered on his lips, defending the boy with his own body. He would probably call it his "duty".

"Indeed?" Severus said, making an effort to keep his voice level. "You think a joke-shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufacturers_?"

The surprise on Remus's face was not in the slightest genuine, Severus knew him well enough to know that, and he hoped that the other knew exactly why he had been summoned here into this office. The fuzzy feeling Severus usually had when being so close to Remus had turned into a painful churning. Anger, disappointment, mistrust, it was all there. And this time Severus had every reason to feel it. For the first time in months it was terribly visible to him that this mild man had once been part of the group that had made his life hell. And that he could make it hell again with only a flick of his fingers. Maybe it had never been so visible before.

"You mean, from Mr Wormtail or one of these people?" Remus said and knew exactly right that it was Mr Moony who Severus meant. "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

By saying "no" the boy told a lie without even being aware of it. "You see, Severus?" Remus said turning back to him and Severus saw it alright. "It looks like a Zonko product to me –"

He was interrupted by Ron Weasley bursting into the office, claiming very suspiciously that he had given all the items to Potter, and Remus seized the chance to flee, taking the parchment with him. As soon as the door had closed, Severus flooed to the other's rooms. He wouldn't let him get away that easily. He was still furious. Even more so now. Remus knew more about… everything than he was letting on, and Severus wanted to find out just how much. And even more importantly: he wanted to shout at him for what he had written, for the rude fun he had made of him!

He stepped out of the fireplace in Remus's sitting room and strode over to the window. He didn't need to wait long, soon the door to the office flew open and Remus entered, looking rather angry himself. When he noticed Severus he halted and ran a hand through his hair. "Severus, listen…"

Severus fixed him with a purely genuine glare. "So… that's what you think about me, isn't it?" he growled but Remus shook his head.

"No! It is not and you should know it! It is like I said, the… parchment insults everybody," Remus replied and stepped closer.

"Really now? Your friends' voices were caught perfectly, why shouldn't yours be?" Severus snapped and felt somewhat self-conscious, so he turned away.

"Severus, if Dumbledore had tried to read it, the parchment would have insulted him with just as rude things. My handwriting would have insulted _anyone_! It was not me who said it. I wasn't even aware that you were trying to read it, neither was the parchment aware of who you are," Remus said in an unusually annoyed voice.

"So it is unbiased and speaks only the truth?" spat Severus whirling round, not even bothering to conceal the pain in his eyes, knowing that Remus had already seen it.

"You know that's not what I meant! I do not think so about you! I have never made you believe so, either, have I? Or did I give you the feeling that I had any complaints about your looks?" Remus retorted agitatedly. "I don't even believe that we are having this conversation!"

"Fine, then I'll end it for you!" snapped Severus and strode back to the fireplace, leaving for his quarters, but Remus followed him through the flames and stepped out just behind him.

"_Don't_ walk out on me, Severus! You never listen!" he cried.

"What for? You made fun of me! You insulted me!"

"Not _me_, Severus, never me! I tell you, it was just a spell that wrote those things. Why can't you believe me that it is not I who thinks so?" Remus said quietly. Severus turned away again and steadied himself on one of his armchairs. No matter what the werewolf said, in the end it all meant that Severus was ugly. He knew it was true, but he didn't want to know that Remus thought so, too, even if he claimed that he saw something different in him, something that wasn't there; he had proved that in the last days. Severus's confidence in what he had believed possible the other night ceased to nothingness.

"To you I'm just a last resort!" Severus pressed out between gritted teeth and the words left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

"How can you say that?" said Remus in a deathly cold voice. "How _dare_ you say that I don't value you? How _dare_ you belittle my feelings, question the intensity – the sincerity of them? You are precious to me! The parchment doesn't love you, Severus, _but I do_!"

Severus felt somewhat ashamed then, but he could not get rid of the whirl of feelings inside him. He swallowed hard and tried to change the subject into the other topic that angered him. "Did you give that thing to the boy?" he asked.

"No… I do not have the slightest idea how it came into his possession. Filch confiscated it when we were still at school, I hadn't seen it since and I have taken it from Harry," Remus replied and stepped closer, putting a hand on Severus's arm. "Severus, I'm sorry it hurt you."

Severus yanked his arm away. "You defended your precious Potter back there, lying into my very face. Even though you _knew_ something! Just like I _know_ that he was in Hogsmeade just not how he got there. So be sincere with me now," Severus said. "Do you know _anything_ about how Black entered the castle? Or about a possibility of how he could have entered?"

Remus kept quiet for a few seconds, then he said, "How do you mean?" in that guilty tone of his.

"How do I mean?" Severus whispered and whirled round in a furious swirl of robes. "WHEN I FOUND HIM, POTTER WAS WHERE YOU WERE AFTER EACH OF BLACK'S BREAK-INS, CALLING FOR HIM! SO WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DO YOU KNOW?"

Remus didn't flinch or back away, he just stared and shook his head. "Please, Severus, don't. I cannot say. I don't know. All I can say is that my loyalty lies with Dumbledore… and you. And I beg you to trust me when I say that I do not directly or indirectly help Sirius, and that I have secrets because the truth and its consequences are too painful and I am too weak, too much the teenage boy that I was, to bear them. I ask you to forgive me. I need you to."

Severus didn't know what to say anymore, he was on the verge of despair and it was all due to this man standing in front of him, hurting him, loving him, healing him and he had never felt so utterly helpless staggering under the weight of the upheaval of emotions in his body. And Remus knew it.

"I cannot," Severus mumbled in resignation.

Remus's brows knitted. "One day there will be too many things that you cannot forgive, so many that they will become your new walls and block me from view."

Severus looked at him and saw the pain in the other's every worn feature, hurting him, too. And he knew that the werewolf was right. Their relationship meant pain, pain that perhaps couldn't be outweighed by pleasure. And was such pain really worth the bliss of the short moments? Did he want to hurt Remus even further? And himself?

"I trust you, Severus, because I think I know you and because I love you, even though you have never proven to me that my trust is well placed. And that is why it hurts me that you don't trust me, don't believe me. I would do anything to change that. I do not want to lose you, I cannot. I am afraid of it."

Severus's eyes widened for a moment and his lips moved on their own. "Me, too."

Remus's eyes saddened. "You are afraid of losing me, too? What in it scares you? That I might spill my knowledge about you, use it against you? Or the humiliation, the pain or the hard work you'd have to put into rebuilding your walls? The disappointment, the betrayal?" he asked in a pained voice and turned to the fireplace as if unable to bear the answer.

This werewolf was _not_ weak, was _not_ the teenage boy from years before. He was strong, withstanding, confident, _because_ he admitted weaknesses, because life had steeled him. But the steel hid a core of glass. To Severus it looked as though he were practising self-preservation because whatever it was that he was hiding was likely to shatter him. Just like, Severus realised, he could shatter him with too harsh a word, too hard a touch. So fragile was the Gryffindor, so marred was his soul that it would fall apart at the merest quake. It was all to be seen in the golden swirl of his eyes and Severus would not be that quake because Remus was what put his own soul back together. He could not lose this. Not now. Could not lose – That's right, he realised, I cannot.

"Yes," Severus said and Remus, hanging his head, stepped towards the fire. "But most of all," Remus paused and turned his head slightly, "I am afraid of losing _you_."

Remus didn't smile, didn't embrace him, didn't say anything and it drove Severus mad. Had he said the wrong thing yet again? But it was the truth! It had been from the beginning. Maybe he didn't trust and maybe he couldn't name his feelings but he knew that he cared and that he couldn't be without Remus, that he couldn't bear the emptiness, the loss. He had made himself dependent.

"The things you described are the consequences. I fear the losses," Severus continued, startled by his own honesty. But Remus needed to know he was serious.

"Yes… guilt and loss are the worst of feelings," Remus whispered in a slightly distant voice. "And we've already had so much of them. I wish it could come to an end. But even if we didn't constantly stand in our own way, the moon is eternal, and, apparently, so is Voldemort –"

"Do _not_ say his name!" Severus snapped despite himself and Remus turned round to face him with surprisingly open anger on his face.

"Yes, I do! It is not because I want to seem especially brave, Severus, it is –"

"What is it? Do you believe yourself an equal to the Dark Lord? Do you think you need not fear him? His power exceeds ours by far, or are you enough of a fool to believe yourself a more powerful wizard than him?" Severus almost shouted, barely managing to keep his right hand from gripping his left forearm, wishing the Dark wizard out of his rooms, his thoughts, this conversation. He hated the effect the Dark Lord still had on him, the insecurity, the feeling of inferiority, the guilt. The shame. Always present. Just like the skull and serpent, burnt into his flesh.

"No, I don't," Remus said quietly and took a gentle hold of Severus's forearm over the Dark Mark. "But I insist, I _demand_ to have more power over you than he does! And I know I do."

Severus stared at him wide-eyed and in a sudden flood of emotion, as if a tank inside of him had shattered, he realised that Remus was right. His love was like the Light equivalent of the Dark Mark. Never to be erased again, binding him to the one who had given it to him.

They were complementary, Remus was all the things Severus was not and many of the things he didn't want to be, as vice versa. To him, Severus had opened his soul like he had done to no one ever before. And before him he had known no one to handle it with so much skill and care and genuine interest. They depended on each other because without each other they were incomplete. Empty. Hollow. What was a piece of parchment in comparison to that? What was some withheld information? Meaningless.

It was then that Severus realised that Remus's love and everything they shared exceeded everything else, every control the Dark Lord had over him, all the bitterness he felt inside, all obligations he had towards Dumbledore, and all fears that were tumbling from him, leaving him only with the fulfilling sensation of the werewolf's soul touching his own and a firm and reassuring whispered "Yes" on his lips.

It was redeeming. As if the invisible chains that had shackled him had been loosened. And when Remus's relieved eyes came closer until Severus felt his own fall shut at the sensation of those soft lips brushing his, he knew that the bliss was worth the pain. That this, even if it lasted only one second, was worth a thousand years of pain and outweighed them easily.

And he knew, when he looked into those golden eyes again seeing in them what for sure shone in his own, feeling gentle hands run over his torso, that forgiving might not be so hard after all.

He knew, although couldn't say who started the unbuckling of belts, the unfastening of clasps and the undoing of buttons, that he wanted him fully, and that this was the perfect moment and the perfect situation.

He knew, when he was leading Remus to the heavy black door at the far end of the room, being held tightly by his arm, not his Mark, that what Remus so easily invoked in him, what made him care, was the combination of all those feelings, positive and negative, calm and passionate, that were flooding his body right then, that it was the will to cling to him and never to let go again not even in death and that that was the origin of jealousy and anger, of appreciation and desire, but never of indifference.

He knew, when he showed Remus to the dark four-poster with the red silk sheets that gleamed so other-worldly, that need, want or lust were no match for this feeling, that any feeling was inferior to this one and that his being was much too weak to hold it and would burst any moment now, any moment of those self-conscious golden eyes on him, those moist lips red from his own, curled into that sheepish, sweet smile and this silken white skin against the crimson sheets, like a perfectly composed painting.

And he knew, when he traced the many scars with his long fingers, that it was good that he had put the stopper back into its bottle since no potion, not even Felix, could have given him a more sincere and blissful moment than the one Remus had led him to through all the troubles.

Remus didn't let him shed his tattered clothing without an unusually insecure warning.

"I – it isn't a nice body, mind you."

"That is for me to decide."

Severus couldn't refrain from feeling insufficient once more either.

"My hands are too rough for your delicate skin, I'll break it."

"Your hands are just fine, Severus, just perfect."

Nevertheless all the while Remus's hands hovered over Severus's as the Potions master unfastened clasp after clasp on the tattered robes, as if to keep some control over his actions, all his usual calm and relaxed self-confidence appearing to have been shed like fabric, no longer covering his marred soul. As soon as his robes had fallen into a pool round Remus's feet the werewolf squirmed as if torn between picking the garments up again to hide and staying in front of Severus to allow him to trace those many scars with wide eyes and feathery fingers, shocked and awed at the same time by what the robes had concealed.

For the first time Severus's eyes were laid upon the thin body, ribcage clearly visible, taut muscles flexing under Severus's fingers and sinewy limbs even more defined by the skinniness of the werewolf. There were so many scars scattered over his body that it made Severus gasp in imaginary pain, old scars whitened and withered, broken by more recent ones, still rather rosy and not quite healed but none, and Severus was glad about that fact, which looked like they had been inflicted in the last months.

When his eyes fell onto the one scar he didn't dare touch yet, the one which he knew was never shown to anyone, Remus covered his face with his hands and then, leaning in to bury it in Severus's shoulder instead somewhat shakily, started tugging on Severus's own robes, slipping them off his shoulders, stopping Severus from hiding the underside of his left arm by turning it with soft fingers to run them over the ugly red skull with as much unbelievable love as he touched the rest of Severus's body with. And now Severus didn't feel as if there were anything ugly about him, none of the attributes the rude parchment had named, Remus's eyes and lips and hands and _body_ made them all disappear.

Remus was so fragile in Severus's arms, as fragile as the Potions master had imagined him to be all those months ago. There was no hidden power now, no unknown strength, only that delicate man, that needed to be steadied, wanted to be held, to let himself fall and be caught. Severus wanted to do all that. The next minutes passed without Severus even noticing, while he was laying Remus down on the red silk, his own self-consciousness lost in a deep kiss along with Remus's as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand blindly and felt around for a bottle of oily ointment. When he brushed his trembling fingers over the flat belly, pausing at the jagged scar left by the other wolf's jaws, never touching it, black eyes asking what thin lips could not voice, the hoarse whisper "I trust you" was all the Potions master needed as an answer.

And when they merged and became _one_, completing each other, finally, _finally_ becoming whole as if that had always been life's plan for them, Severus's veins pulsed with hot blood that he could have sworn was Remus's flowing into him, hearts beating in unison, chests heaving against each other, trying to draw enough air to compensate for their breathtaking kisses. Not one second did Severus's eyes close, locked with Remus's, masks long forgotten, impossible to be held in place now, and it was _now_ that Severus wanted to cling to for eternity, he just wanted to let himself sink into those deep pools of gold and drown in them. It would be a beautiful death. Golden eyes looking up at him, brow creased, red lips slightly parted, lids heavy, gold swirling. And – oh – when had anyone _ever_ looked at him like that? With desire and trust and pleasure and warmth and _love_, yes, those heated eyes shone with all that and it overwhelmed Severus, made him hide the Dark Mark under Remus's hair, for he was unwilling to let it be part of so pure an experience.

Remus held Severus's face in firm but tender hands, legs entangled with Severus's and sighed his name now and then, a single tear escaping through his black eyelashes, rolling over his skin, mingling with sweat and catching in Severus's black hair which was brushing the werewolf's flushed cheeks while Severus smoothed back Remus's honey bangs and ran his free hand over that very first scar, the one which had changed his life forever and in the end led him right here. It made the werewolf shiver and squirm and it was intriguing to Severus just what his touches were doing to the other. And it seemed as if every movement, every caress took Remus further apart, increasing Severus's control or rather making him more aware of the control, the power he'd always had over him. He felt their souls weave and unite, never to be separated again and somehow it was awe-inspiring to Severus. Now they both were unguarded, naked, laying themselves into each other's hands and Severus knew that it would be hard to find not only the strength but also the will to put on his cold, indifferent mask again in the morning.

When they reached completion in unison, a flood of indescribable pleasure washed over Severus's body and Remus's hoarse cry – and had that echo really been Severus's own voice? – made the Potions master's ears rejoice. A disbelieving expression passed over Severus's face at the sight of the man underneath him, arching his spine with his head thrown back, his amber eyes, so dark now, rolling upwards, their lids fluttering closed only to reveal two cauldrons full of swirling liquid gold mere moments later, locking again with Severus's black tunnels.

Severus ran his hand through Remus's hair and over his forehead and let his thumb trace the curved line of those lips, his eyes narrowing, exploring the relaxed features, skin shimmering, hair tousled and damp, mouth curled into an absent-minded smile, and he realised with surprise and wonder that it had been him who had caused all this, when Remus's now even huskier voice broke the breathless silence in the semi-dark room in which the air was still hot and heavy with their panted pleasure.

"I never thought a lover would look upon me with such scientific curiosity."

Severus directed his eyes at the other's amber ones and leant in to kiss him. It was one of those situations when he couldn't come up with anything other than snide remarks, so he didn't speak at all. He shifted his body a little to settle down against Remus's, while the other ran his fingers over the damp skin of Severus's back leaving pleasantly burning traces behind. It was such an unknown intimacy, so intense and warm and _good_ that Severus didn't know how he'd be able to live without it. He was _feeling_ Remus now, he was feeling him so strongly that he was sure that he had never felt anything or anyone before in his life. _This_ was feeling.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Remus's peaceful features, tranquil only because of Severus's presence, and his eyes, focused only on Severus, and his hands, caressing only Severus's skin, made the Potions master smile an unusually content and genuine smile, letting his fingers brush over the other's cheek. All blame and suspicion were far away now, and it was inexplicable to him why they had been there. Severus was the reason why Remus was satisfied, he would look only at Severus. He was _his_. And, oddly enough, Severus was sincerely happy with that fact. And also with the fact that he was Remus's. Truly.

Remus raised his hand to cup Severus's cheek, and his eyes mirrored his smile, startling Severus with his reflection. "I love you, too, Severus," Remus said quietly and Severus, instead of responding anything harsh or rude, turned his head to kiss his palm before lowering his face to press it into the crook of Remus's neck, lips to his shoulder, tightening his hold around the werewolf's back. And even though he braced himself for a sleepless night, an unknown trust allowed his breathing to slow, his eyes to fall shut and in no time his dreams had swept him away into a world whose pleasures could never match those he had experienced in reality.


	23. To Understand

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the passges borrowed from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Alright, this one is longer than it seems when you read it ^^. The day after. And a few of Remus's and Severus's questions answered.

**To Understand**

Not being familiar with real pleasure, Severus would never have believed it possible that reality would ever seem to him like a dream, or that he would wish for a dream to end and reality to return. But he did now. Because now reality bore true pleasure.

Severus woke to the sound of a bird's song behind the window and an extraordinary warmth all around him. Feeling the warm sun on his skin, he realised, astonished, that he must have slept unusually long and well. And yet, he was _happy_ to be awake. He stirred slightly, his skin brushing against the silky heat that his body was curled around, and shifted his head, opening his eyes to the peacefully sleeping face of Remus Lupin.

It was a most singular feeling, waking up beside him, skin brushing skin in a loose embrace. Especially when one expected to wake up alone, to a cold, deserted bed. Remus's pale skin was shimmering in the dim sunlight that fell through the curtains before the windows and it made him glow warmly, much differently than the moonlight did, much more alive. Severus could feel his even breathing on his lips and entangled their legs more tightly when he smoothed the tousled golden-grey hair back, out of Remus's face and let his fingers brush the werewolf's cheek. He had never known himself as a gentle man, but in that very moment his mind was so at peace and his soul so softened that it happened automatically. As Severus noticed the silent smile Remus's soft lips were curled into he frowned, wondering what pleasant dream might have placed it there. Was it as splendid a dream as the night before had been?

Yes, it was unreal indeed to wake up beside him, breath touching each other's faces in a close embrace. Especially when, looking up, one found oneself fixed by Remus's smiling ambers, shining back at one, bright and serene.

"Good morning, Severus," croaked Remus, closing the small gap between them to seal Severus's lips with his own, pressing their bodies closer together. The sensation brought back the memory of the night's events and Severus shivered, running his hand over Remus's spine. The warmth in Remus's expression was simply overwhelming, it made him smile, too. So this was what it felt like to be loved. He could barely believe that, indeed, it was not a dream, but reality.

Thin lips touched a soft forehead as Severus leant down and took a deep breath to inhale Remus's sweet fragrance that he was sure clung to his own skin now. And though he knew he needed it, a shower was out of the question. He wanted to carry the feeling of Remus on his skin for as long as he possibly could. He wanted to stay in bed with him forever.

"You seem content, Severus."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "So do you," he said and enjoyed the husky chuckle from Remus's lips. Now, he realised, he had taken that laugh to bed with him willingly, the only laugh he ever wanted to hear. He would never have believed that to happen only a few months before, hearing the echo of it in his ears at night. Neither would he have believed that its owner would willingly follow him here. Yes, he was content.

"Do you feel all right?" he asked, placing his hand over Remus's hip and the werewolf nodded.

"I feel good… great, actually," he said with a tired smile.

Severus nodded and his eyes traced a long scar on Remus's pale skin which ran down from shoulder to hip like a king's sash. It was the one whose end he had seen the other day when Remus had been asleep. It seemed like an iceberg to him now, the biggest part of it hidden under the water. Remus seemed to have noticed the stern expression on Severus's face, for he smiled vaguely and murmured, "I told you it's not a nice body."

But the Potions master shook his head. "That's not true. You should carry those scars with pride, not shame," he said firmly and again Remus chuckled.

"And why would that be?" Remus asked quietly, pressing his cheek against Severus's shoulder.

"Because determination and courage are not traits to be ashamed of," Severus answered, not meeting his eye. He didn't know anything in Remus that he should be ashamed of.

"Courage? That's what you call it?" the werewolf asked and Severus could feel his smile on his skin.

"It is courageous to tear oneself apart instead of endangering others," Severus said. "Or merely silly."

Remus laughed softly. "Gryffindor," he offered as a justification.

Severus smirked and glanced at the clock behind Remus's back. Ten past eleven. But that wasn't possible! It had hardly been evening when they had gone to bed and even if he considered the time they had spent awake… He hadn't slept that long in two decades! It must have been the warmth that had kept him asleep. Or the embrace.

That must be the reason why he felt so refreshed. Severus rubbed his eyes and sighed. That meant that they hadn't got much time left to lazily stay in bed. Though it was strange enough that he had the wish to do so… he was no supporter of idling. And he disliked even more the speculations Albus would surely come up with if Remus and he both missed breakfast.

"Are we missing breakfast?" Remus asked with a glance over his shoulder. "It's alright by me. I missed breakfast rather often all year."

"That's because you are such a late riser," Severus said, considering Remus's face as the other held onto his arm as if trying to prevent him from getting up. "I on the other hand…"

"… usually wake up at the most ungodly hours," smiled Remus. "Not today, though."

Severus shook his head. "Not today, no…"

"I hope that's a good sign…" Remus muttered and averted his eyes. "You didn't say anything last night."

Severus swallowed. He hadn't seen that sheepish smile on Remus's face for some time and now it was back, putting him at a loss. He propped himself up on his elbows and rubbed his neck. This wasn't a situation he usually got into. But he, too, wanted to know if it was a good situation or an awkward one.

"If it is good for you then it is for me," he mumbled and stared intently at the scar on Remus's jaw.

Remus chuckled. "I'm glad it turned out like this…" he said and fell silent, avoiding the topic of the row they had had. Severus was grateful for that. He didn't want to think about it. Not right now. While they were so close to each other, legs still entangled, the ensnaring heat of Remus's skin warming Severus's own. He wanted all that to last for as long as possible. Running his thumb over Remus's jaw, he leant in and kissed the werewolf's soft lips. Remus pressed up to him and encircled his neck with his arms, gently running his fingers over Severus's shoulder blades in the process.

When Severus pulled back and kissed the scar in the crook of Remus's neck, a satisfied sigh caressing his ears, tender hands caressing his back, he was absolutely sure that no one had ever touched him like this, would ever touch him like this. Touching him because it was him. It was special. But did Remus feel the same? Or was it just another touch for him, with just another person? But would he be able to transmit this feeling to Severus if it were so? Severus couldn't imagine it. And the way Remus was smiling at him right now… it must be real. Special.

The frown that formed on Remus's face made Severus lose his train of thought, the amber eyes were fixed on Severus's arm and when he looked down he shuddered. The red skull and snake were completely exposed on his forearm on which he was leaning. He quickly withdrew it from sight and lay back down but Remus caught it and laid his head onto Severus's shoulder, holding Severus's arm before his eyes.

"Is this a proof that he is still out there?" Remus asked in a distant voice and Severus freed his arm from his loose grip to lay it round Remus's shoulders.

"That is what I suppose, though it is not as clear as it used to be," he answered and they lapsed into silence again. Severus had succeeded in hiding the Mark from those boring golden eyes for the better part of their shared time and he scolded himself for being so absent-minded now of all times. Though Remus didn't seem disgusted, his attention had been drawn to unpleasant things. Severus didn't want the influence of the ugly brand mark to affect him.

"I don't mind it," the werewolf said suddenly.

"Well, I do," Severus replied in a whisper.

"Ah, yes," said Remus quietly. "But I've told you, Severus, the Mark is a part of you; a part that shows that you've been wrong and that you've been strong enough to realise and to admit it. Actually it is a sign of your strength." Remus turned his head slightly and smiled up at Severus. "Certainly you shouldn't carry it with pride, but you should be proud of the fact that you have overcome it."

Severus buried his face in Remus's hair and closed his eyes. He wanted to hear all that. And yet he couldn't bear it. Gentle fingers laced with his and the soft "I love you" gave him that warm feeling again, that feeling he had grown addicted to. Addicted as to those whispered declarations and feathery touches and stimulating conversations and encouraging words. To all the faces hidden in Remus from blissful to furious, from rejoicing to desperate. To his calm presence and silent smiles and husky chuckles. All this, he depended on. Severus didn't understand how it was possible that his new master reigned over him with gentleness and love so much more powerfully than his former master had done with violence and death. But, no, there were no masters here. Not in Remus and not in Severus, either.

Remus held onto Severus's forearm and hand while they were both staring at the canopy and he made the impression upon Severus that a few more questions were waiting behind his lips to be uttered but he didn't dare let them out. After a few minutes, Severus moved to sit up and Remus's head slid off his shoulder. He glanced regretfully down at the werewolf, reluctant to leave his warmth behind, uncertain of how to survive the day without it. But it couldn't be helped. Breakfast would soon be over and the Wolfsbane which Remus would need to take today had not been brewed yet. Severus groaned. It wasn't even prepared. What had he been thinking? Nothing, really. He had been… occupied, after all.

"We should get up…" Severus mumbled. "You should go have breakfast and I should prepare your Potion. If you want you can take a shower."

Remus shook his head and gave him a vague smile, pulling himself into a sitting position at Severus's shoulder with a little wince. While Severus searched for all of Remus's garments at the foot of the bed, the werewolf pressed his lips to his shoulder and encircled his waist with his arms, making it even harder for Severus to get up. When he had gathered Remus's robes up into his arms he laid them into a pile on the mattress and snatched his dressing-gown from a chair under the window. He picked up his robes from the floor where they had been left and forgotten the night before and looked down at them, lost in thought for a moment, remembering how Remus had slipped them off his shoulders. The werewolf got out of bed after him and Severus couldn't help but stare at his naked body standing in front of him. His arm moved on its own accord and his yellow fingers traced an especially long scar on Remus's back, making the other shiver.

"You know," Remus said, reaching for the first layer of his robes, "when I was younger I used to make up heroic and adventurous stories about how I had attained my scars. One day, I simply started hiding them. I was tired of the lies." He paused and chuckled, never looking at Severus. "I still am."

Then a layer of fabric covered his torso and Severus turned his eyes away. They fell on the bottle with ointment which he had used the night before. It was still open. He could still smell it on his fingers. He could still smell Remus on his skin. He shivered. Those were inappropriate thoughts. He should concentrate on the cauldrons in his lab and not on the werewolf in his bedroom. But he was still there. So close. It was still so present, so real now.

Severus reached inside his wardrobe and took out a fresh set of clothes, shedding his dressing-gown to put them on. When he fastened the buttons on the black linen trousers that he wore underneath his robes, he felt Remus's stare on his back and looked at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. Remus, realising that he had been caught staring, blinked a few times and grinned, shrugging.

"I'm sorry, it's just…" he said trailing off, searching for words. "You're very… changed, Severus."

The Potions master gave him a skeptical look and Remus quickly carried on. "I mean… you're not hiding behind your hair anymore, like you used to. Your shoulders are not rounded anymore, you stand straight and tall. You look self-confident – strong. That's very attractive, you know?"

Severus stared at him, unsure how to react; that compliment had come unexpectedly. The hot blush creeping into his face didn't help at all. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat, pulling on his robe, fastening its clasps, all the while actually _hearing_ Remus's silent smile. Then he turned to the nightstand, taking the bottle of ointment into his hands to put the stopper into it and to put it back into its drawer, until, perhaps, it would be in use again.

It was half past eleven when Severus held the door open for Remus and, throwing his outer robe over his shoulders, left the bedroom after him, trying to breathe in his scent, almost bumping into him in front of the door to his laboratory as the other man suddenly stopped and turned to face him. Severus, in a desperate attempt to compose himself, gave him a questioning scowl.

"You should hurry. Everyone will be wondering where we are and Albus will come up with several wild theories about our whereabouts which I don't even want to imagine."

"He might just come up with the truth."

"Oh, did you have that impression, as well?" Severus asked and shuddered. "I don't know why but he gives me the feeling that he knows a little too much. Maybe I will need to overpower him in a dark corridor and Obliviate him secretly." He hoped that if Albus really had a spying device in his rooms he had at least had enough sense of privacy to refrain from using it the night before. Though it wouldn't surprise him if he hadn't.

Remus chuckled slightly and glanced round as if in search for something, while his hand was reaching for his neck. He was looking for his cravat. But Severus knew that he hadn't worn one when he had entered his rooms. "Shall I come down to get the Potion or will you bring it?" Remus asked, trying to make his collar stay in place without his missing cravat.

"I will bring it," answered Severus and opened the wooden door, waiting for Remus to step through it, but instead the werewolf stayed put, gazing up at him.

"Thank you, Severus," said he and straightened Severus's cravat, letting his hands slide over his shoulders rather affectionately. "I'm looking forward to seeing you later."

Remus leant in and let their lips brush, before he passed through the door and was gone, making Severus sink against the cold stone wall to calm himself down. This was singular indeed. He had yet to realise it all. He hoped dearly that he wouldn't mess up the Potion, shaky as he was, full of those memories; not only images but feelings. They made him flush. He didn't want everyday life to return. But he couldn't stop time, or turn it back. So he started on the Wolfsbane, hoping dearly that reality wouldn't come crashing in on him.

When Severus left his rooms in the afternoon to have lunch in the Great Hall he wasn't sure if his usual scowl was in place, but he couldn't go on brewing with nothing in his stomach so he left the bubbling cauldron behind and ascended the stairs out of the dungeons. When he saw Remus already seated at the table and talking excitedly to Flitwick and McGonagall, his stomach felt fuzzier than ever and he averted his eyes, scolding himself for his lack of self-control. But then again, this lack of self-control had made all of it possible. Severus tried not to look at the werewolf during lunch but he couldn't miss his cheerful voice and he glared at his food, wishing for a pair of earmuffs that would block out the pleasant sound that excited him so.

Leaving the Great Hall after having mashed his food into an indistinct mass and having scared Vector and Sinistra who were sitting at either side of him to death with his glares (at least he was still capable of that) Severus met Remus at the doors and announced his arrival in his office in half an hour's time. Remus nodded with a smile and ascended the marble stairs in the Entrance Hall, leaving Severus to take points off a few nosy Gryffindors, simply for eavesdropping too obviously. Another set of points was taken when Severus was on his way to Remus's office, goblet in his hand and a Hufflepuff, running through the corridors, bumped into him, almost spilling the Potion. That brat would most probably suffer from the trauma for the rest of his sorry life.

With a broad smirk on his thin lips, Severus knocked on Remus's door and was admitted with a hum, due to Remus's mouthful of shortbread. The werewolf was standing beside the open window and a draught of chilly fresh air went through the room as Severus stepped inside.

"You seem smug," Remus said with a laugh. "Whom have you scared this time?"

Severus snorted and set the goblet down onto the desk. Remus turned away to look out of the window, leaning against the wall with an absent-minded expression. Severus walked round the table to look over his shoulder. He was staring at the Whomping Willow which was swaying slightly in the wind. Severus supposed that Remus was thinking of the many terrible nights he had spent beyond the tree. He for his part didn't desire to remember his only night in the tunnel under that Willow. So he lifted the goblet off the table and held it under Remus's nose which wrinkled immediately.

"Would you drink it now, before it turns cold?" Severus said and Remus took the goblet from him with a nod and an apology.

"Help yourself to shortbread if you like," Remus said between gulps and pointed at the tin on his desk. Severus declined and sat down on the armrest of Remus's chair, watching him drink. Remus looked back at him with a curious expression in his golden eyes and Severus gave him a questioning look, crossing his arms.

"Yes?" he said in expectation of a question and Remus frowned.

"Did every Death Eater have a Dark Mark?" the werewolf asked suddenly and it startled Severus into confused silence for a moment.

"No," he answered shortly, "just the inner circle."

Remus nodded. "Sirius Black would have carried one then?"

Severus glared at him. That topic again. "As the Dark Lord's right hand one would expect him to carry one, yes," he pressed, scolding himself for being angry that obviously Black had beaten him even in the grace of the Dark Lord.

"But I never saw one on his arm."

Severus raised his eyebrows, surprised and yet determined to convince Remus that there was an explanation for that and that Black was indeed a traitor. He could not possibly doubt that, could he?

"Well as a double-agent, maybe it would have been too dangerous. Or possibly he concealed it somehow. What do you want to imply?" Severus growled but Remus went on.

"Did you know about Sirius being a Death Eater? You were in the inner circle, weren't you?"

Severus didn't like this conversation. Not at all. He wanted to return to his bedroom, under the covers, with Remus's warmth pressed against him. Instead he felt stinging shame and cold fury welling up inside him. "I did not. But that was common in those days. Most of us didn't know each other, that was safer. What I did know was that there was someone close to the Potters who had changed sides. And like I said, probably the Dark Lord wanted to conceal the fact that he had the Potters' best friend in his rows. He was not a very trusting man, not even with his followers. And right he was, if you consider that I was the one who passed on information to Dumbledore," Severus explained, his voice shaking slightly. How could Remus still think that that bastard was not a traitor after all? "I ask you again: what do you want to imply?"

Remus seemed surprised for a second and averted his eyes steadying himself on the table. "I… I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't want to upset you. I shouldn't have brought it up. I should've known that you don't want to talk about the topic. It's just –" he stopped and passed a hand over his face, "– I'm merely trying to understand it all."

Severus sighed. There seemed to be some spark of hope left in Remus. And he couldn't bring himself to violently squash it. He knew how hard Black's betrayal had been on him, and still was. "There is nothing to understand. Just don't think about it." Remus stepped close to him and Severus rose to allow an embrace.

"Thanks for the Potion," Remus mumbled into the fabric of Severus's robes.

"_Stop_ thanking me already. I'm not making any sacrifice by brewing it for you, after all," Severus muttered, though the undeniably proud feeling was rather pleasant.

"But I want to thank you. It is all I can do," Remus insisted and stepped back, tugging on Severus's sleeve to make him follow him into his sitting room. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No," Severus replied and sat down on the sofa. Remus joined him, heaving a sigh. Suddenly he started chuckling and pressed his face into his hands.

"I haven't had any time to look at the homework yet. Or rather, I did have the time but I couldn't concentrate," Remus said and ran his hands over his jaw, looking at Severus. "I haven't even shaved. Every time I looked into the mirror I found one spot or another that you had touched and I was in a dream state again. When I snapped out of it I had already forgotten what I had wanted to do. And with everything smelling like you it became absolutely impossible to hold on to even one single sensible thought."

Severus blinked once and with a raised eyebrow directed his eyes to the Gryffindor flag over the fireplace. He didn't know which feeling was stronger right now: embarrassment or satisfaction. Why did this strangely frank Gryffindor manner still fluster him?

"Well, I certainly hope that _my_ thoughts were focused when I was brewing your Potion…" said he with a slight smirk which broadened when he heard Remus's reply.

"I don't doubt you, Severus."

A gentle hand turned his face to the werewolf and it felt so much easier now to just lean in and kiss him, pressing him against the backrest of the leather sofa, while burying his fingers in the depths of those tattered robes. The foul taste of the Wolfsbane was still on Remus's lips and tongue and Severus could make out every single ingredient that added up to the powerful effect of controlling the beast in Remus's body.

Severus pulled back to look at his face and frowned. He wanted to see that part of him, too, the part that Severus himself had tamed. The obscure one, the animal one, the wolf. Wanted to be with him during the transformation, soothe him during that horrible experience. And wouldn't it please the other to know that? To know that Severus indeed wanted to have _all_ of him? Would he give it to him? Up to now he had given him everything he had desired. Why shouldn't he do so now? Why should he deny this? Something that showed so much that Severus really didn't care what he was, only who.

"See? The taste is disgusting, isn't it?" Remus asked with a lopsided smile and Severus raised his eyebrows, startled out of his thoughts. "But it's your own fault. You knew it was still there."

Severus cleared his throat. Why would Remus deny it, really?

"Would you allow me to be present at your next transformation?" Severus said formally, a little uncertain of how to put his request. Remus stiffened and considered Severus with a stern face. The Slytherin knitted his eyebrows.

"No," was the plain answer and it was quite painful to Severus due to Remus's final and hard tone. He couldn't hide his confusion about the unexpected reaction and needed to let it sink in before saying anything.

"Why not?" he asked quietly, scowling a little, feeling defiant and annoyed despite himself at still being shut out of this part of Remus's life.

Remus heaved a sigh and his face softened, though his brow creased a little. "I don't want you to see it," he replied and averted his eyes as Severus took hold of his arm.

"But why?" Severus repeated. "Why do you hide this from me?"

"You see, I… I don't want you to see it because I don't want you to see me as a monster. I don't want you to see me that way," said Remus.

Severus shook his head at him. "You won't be a monster. You will be perfectly sane. This is a part of you, and since it is you: show it to me!"

But Remus just gave him a very rare and very serious scowl. "It is not me, Severus," he said quietly. "It has nothing in common with me. I don't show it to you because, no matter how much of my mind remains in that body, it is _not_ me. It _is_ a monster. I am not an animal and I am not comfortable with the state of being absolutely unable to act reasonably but only on instinct, probably even endangering you." He paused and took a deep breath, clutching at Severus's robes. "Please, understand that I do not wish you to know that part of me, since it is nothing I want to be defined by. Least of all by you. _This_ is me. This being that you are with now, that is me. I don't want you to look at me and remember a beast staring back at you. I want you to look at me and see _me_. It is such a rare pleasure to be looked at and considered a human-being and not a Dark Creature although you are aware of my being one. I do not want to see that curse reflected in your eyes, too."

"But it _does_ define you," Severus mumbled in an annoyed tone. "The curse, not the beast. If you hadn't been cursed you might be a completely different person today. It is most probable."

And I would regret that, he thought. Because Remus was trying so hard, the curse had made him such a good person. A better person than he would have become had he been just another boy. Severus was sure of that. With more depths and more qualities than the average man. And only because he was not the average man Severus was here with him now. That was the only reason.

"Yes, that's true of course. We will never know if that would've been better or worse for my personality. Nevertheless, I am not the wolf and the wolf isn't me. It influenced me, or rather, the effect that the knowledge of my condition has on people influenced me. That doesn't make the wolf an active part of me. It takes a part of my life, that's true, and I cannot prevent that, but I will let it into as little of the rest of my life as possible – it has already claimed too much, cost too much… please understand. This is too important for me to let _it_ in. This is sacred and it is just for you and me. Now that you've saved most of my mind from it, don't ask me to share you with the wolf, too, after I have had to lose so much to its existence."

Severus swallowed and lowered his eyes. He couldn't comprehend this of course. He wasn't a werewolf, didn't have to share his body with another mind. Remus suppressed all things wolfish, Severus had certainly never noticed any animal behaviour in the other man. Obviously it was important to the Gryffindor to make a clear difference between himself and the wolf, hating the wolf and trying hard to be human, to be himself. Not accepting the wolf but separating it from the rest of him. Having lived with the wolf for almost his entire life, Severus imagined it must be difficult for him to know exactly who he really was anyway. Where he ended and the wolf began. Which traits were natural and which weren't. Or did he distinctly feel the aggressive being of the wolf, which must be so different from his gentle self? Was it indeed like a second spirit occupying his body, one that constantly fought against his? Did the savage wolf disturb his mild mind, did it try to take it over? Did it strain him to keep it at bay and out of his life? Was that the reason why Remus didn't want Severus too close to him around the full moon?

He wanted to be fully himself when Severus was present, didn't want the wolf to steal any of his consciousness or his experiences. He wanted to be human. Such a desperate wish. And Severus knew how that felt, wishing to be something different, something which would make everything easier and better. It was ironic that a werewolf should teach him how to be just that. Human. Better.

But actually he was only better to him, he hadn't changed much in general. He had learnt much. Severus let himself slump against the backrest of the sofa and heaved a sigh. He didn't have another reply. He would have to accept Remus's will. And actually it had to do with Remus's feelings for him, not with mistrust, right? After all, would he introduce Remus to the Dark Lord merely because he asked him to? Surely not.

"Forgive me," said Remus quietly and touched Severus's thigh in that natural way. Severus snorted and raised an eyebrow at the crow sitting before the window.

"What for? Complimenting me?"

Remus chuckled huskily and Severus shivered with anticipation as the honey head came to rest on his shoulder. He couldn't stop his mind from playing tricks on him. Since the night before Remus's mere presence was somewhat unreal and very enticing. Not to speak of his touch. Severus closed his eyes and rested his temple on the top of Remus's head, his hand covering the werewolf's on his thigh, just sitting in silence for a while. It was one of Remus's talents to fill silence with just as much meaning as conversation, thus giving Severus the impression that it was not wasted time but enjoyable and rare recreation from the noisy school life. For a short while they could take a break from everyday life and just dream.

Remus had once stated that it weren't those people who you could talk to day and night which were really close to you, since you could talk with everybody, but those who you could be silent with and pleasantly so. With no need for words. And that there were only few people who could give you that feeling. Severus could only admit that there was at least some truth in it. Though it sounded terribly Gryffindor.


	24. Hold On

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

**Hold On**

To Severus's dismay, Remus and he barely saw each other during the next week. The only occasions were the deliveries of the Wolfsbane on which Remus choked more and more often. Severus supposed it was the stress, since the last week before the Easter holidays was rather busy and the werewolf wasn't used to the approach of exam time which was connected with a mountain of homework and preparations for class. Mostly he sat at his desk surrounded by piles of parchment, or in front of his bookshelves, his hair tousled, scribbling notes on a piece of paper with the help of tons of opened books lying in a circle around him as if he were practising some ritual to summon the God of Studies.

Severus noticed that the closer the full moon came, the harder it was on Remus. He would fidget and start violently when Severus entered with the Potion, having let himself in, and since Severus sensed the tension he never stayed long. The offer of help was in vain. Remus wanted to make it on his own. So Severus left him alone, though it irritated him immensely to see the circles under his eyes become darker by the day and his pale skin turn white.

When Friday was finally there and Severus had given his classes an immense load of homework, due to his bad mood even more than usual, he thought that the time of seclusion had passed but when he entered the werewolf's office in the afternoon to find its owner almost asleep with exhaustion, leaning over his desk, he was almost immediately shown out again after the goblet he had brought had been emptied. Standing in front of the closed door again realisation dawned on him, and his face, if possible, darkened even more. The full moon, of course. This was really starting to become annoying.

Though Severus tried not to show his annoyance on Saturday and Sunday when he entered Remus's rooms, but he was sure that the werewolf sensed it since their short exchanges of words were very tense and always on the verge of becoming rude and unpleasant. Remus just cowered on the sofa and didn't let Severus within a foot of himself. Did the Potions master lessen this distance, he was immediately asked to leave. When he was thrown out on Sunday when dusk was falling he was fuming with suppressed anger and his conscience was heavy with guilt. But never before had Remus not even let him stay for at least a minute. Never had he hidden in his rooms like that, missing meals and avoiding Severus. Could he be feeling so much worse this time or was Severus too sensitive? Was his own longing too intense?

Impatient as ever Severus didn't wait for the sun to rise properly before he made his way up to Remus's rooms, right after moonset. Just as he had uttered the password, Severus heard a crashing sound and a muffled scream from inside and threw open the door, hurrying into the sitting room. He looked round but could make nothing out until he glanced over the sofa and saw the upset coffee table and the panting, trembling heap beside it on the floor. Immediately he strode round the armchair and knelt down beside the werewolf who was lying face down on the carpet, arms crossed under his chest, dressed only in his usual tee-shirt and pajama bottoms. Severus laid his hand on the bony back and bent down.

"Remus," he said firmly and reached for his face. "Remus, are you alright?"

A groan and a cough were the answer when Remus struggled to get up. His arms and legs shook and couldn't hold his weight for longer than five seconds, giving way so that Remus collapsed again, hitting the table before Severus could catch him. A violent coughing fit seized Remus's thin frame and he pressed his arms to his chest, his face screwed up in a pain stricken expression. Severus laid his arm round Remus's shaking shoulders and tried to steady him when the coughs ceased and he slumped back onto the floor with a whimper, trying to suppress a retch. Severus ran his hand up and down Remus's back and brushed the cold sweat off his forehead while the werewolf, cowering, breathing raggedly, mumbled some inaudible words, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"Remus," Severus said again and tried to carefully help him up but straightening his back seemed to be agonising to the other. He just sank back down with another coughing fit and suddenly his fist hit the floor with so much force that Severus was sure he would break his hand.

"Oh, bugger!" he half sobbed half snarled. "I'm sick of this!"

Severus narrowed his eyes and smoothed back Remus's hair. He wouldn't have any of that. "You cannot stay here like this. Come, I will help you into bed."

Remus groaned and let himself be pulled into a sitting position, leaning against Severus's shoulder, but refused to get up. Severus heaved a sigh, failing to be annoyed at that behaviour and scooped him up in his arms to carry him. Remus winced at every step Severus took towards the bedroom, and Severus needed to hush him twice when he heard him mumble something incoherent.

"Be quiet and relax. I have a few potions to ease that pain," Severus said, laying him down onto the bed. He reached into his pockets and produced the usual phials, sitting down beside the writhing werewolf. "What were you doing on the floor?"

Remus peered up at him, his golden-grey hair gleaming reddish in the dawning sunlight. "I forgot to go to – ah – to bed before transforming back and I tried to walk over but my… my legs gave way and I… I fell. Knocked over the table."

Severus removed the stopper from the first phial and lifted Remus's head slightly to bring it to his lips. Even swallowing seemed painful to him. "You dunderhead."

A slight chuckle, painfully mirthless, rippled Remus's frame, much to Severus's regret, for it caused him to squirm with pain once again. "Thank you for coming so early. I would have stayed on the floor for another few hours, if you hadn't come," Remus rasped before the next potion was poured into his mouth.

"I was… worried," Severus admitted and pulled the cover over the werewolf's body. "So this is what stress does to you."

Remus closed his eyes gravely. "This is what this bloody curse does to me. And it gets worse and worse the older I get."

Severus felt Remus's forehead, with a scowl. "I don't know you to swear. I realise it must be worse this time," he said and let Remus take his hand into both of his. "But it is over now. You should sleep for a while."

Remus shook his head. "On such days I wish it were _really_ over. It was not even bearable tonight. I think I – mh – I was unconscious for a few minutes after the transformations."

Severus raised a disapproving eyebrow and clicked his tongue. "Don't say such stupid things. Either I have a little voice in my ear – which I don't – or you were the one who said that you have to suffer to experience pleasure."

Remus stared at him for a moment and then he nodded with visible effort, lowering his dull eyes. "I did say that. But I fail to see the light at the end of this particular tunnel."

Severus gave him his most skeptical look. "Then you will have to try and look harder. You're still needed here. If you lose courage, I will, too."

Having said that, Severus rose from the bed and put the phials back into his pocket, eyes never leaving the stunned werewolf. The amber eyes were wide open and following Severus's every movement. "Rest now, and stop giving me the feeling that I couldn't help you at all. That hurts me in my Potioneer pride," Severus added and turned to leave but he felt Remus's weak grasp on his hand and stopped in his tracks to face him again.

"You do help me!" Remus panted and Severus had to gently push him back down into the pillows. "I'm sorry. You are right. I'll pull myself together. But I'll need you for it. You'll have to stay."

Severus couldn't prevent the self-satisfied expression from forming on his face as he let his outer robe slide off his shoulders to lay it down on the chair in front of Remus's bed. "I should have known that, shouldn't I?"

Remus grinned slightly when Severus sat down beside him and stretched out his legs on the blanket, and he leant against him with another wince and a very uncontrolled whine.

"Merlin! My ribs are the worst. It feels as if they're about to snap…"

In no time it seemed, Remus had fallen asleep, breathing still ragged but even, leaving Severus to listen to it. Severus felt even closer to the werewolf than he had before. It was as if he were in pain as well, as if, even when they weren't together, a part of Remus remained with him, as if he were constantly standing beside him. Severus had decided that that was something positive, something which he would like to stay that way. Though he was not yet certain how Remus felt about all of it and how it would all continue. He wished Remus would say something on the topic. Something reassuring. As he usually did.

Severus didn't know if there was anything to say at all. If anything had changed between them or if it was just him who felt even more intensely now. Though they had certainly not planned their row to turn out like that, Severus believed that it had been a conscious decision to take the step. That thought calmed him a little. It ruled out a mistake. It hadn't been one. At least he hoped so. He had taken hold of that night's moment unafraid of the consequences, not hesitating, very unlike himself, although he had known that this was just another aspect he would miss. That now it would be even more difficult to lose all this. But he was happy with it. Right now, it was all perfect and blissful. Now that there still existed a "we".

Severus heaved a sigh. But that would end, wouldn't it? And probably very soon. He was afraid now. Of Remus leaving him. And he wanted Remus to tell him that that wouldn't happen, even if it wasn't true, because Remus could always convince him. Severus snorted and passed a hand over his face. He was pathetic. He wanted this. And he would have to live with all its bad sides. What could really be so terrible that it would make him regret this bliss?

Even with that question on his mind Severus could not hide the troubles in his eyes when, in the evening, Remus talked to him about Hagrid's terrible experiences in London the other week. The werewolf, though the pain wasn't yet gone, had strengthened considerably over the day and with a cup of tea in his hands he articulated his anger over Lucius Malfoy's foul methods and the poor quality of today's politicians, and why hadn't Severus tried to talk to Malfoy? But no, that would have been counterproductive.

Suddenly he stopped and cocked his head to one side, considering Severus with a curious expression. "What are you brooding about, this time?" he croaked and took a sip of tea, giving Severus a sweet and knowing smile over the rim of his cup. Severus crossed his arms over his chest. Those amber eyes were always alert, weren't they?

"It is nothing," he lied but Remus knew that he wasn't telling the truth. The werewolf put the cup down on the nightstand and gave him a serious look. Severus sighed and gave in. Resisting would only upset the weak werewolf. And it would be in vain anyway. "It is going to end."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "To me you look quite healthy." Severus glared at him.

"What I mean is… you know what I mean! _This_," he said and waved his hand between them to indicate their relationship. Merlin. When had it been that he had first established the term in his thoughts? It seemed so long before now, so ridiculous to describe it as anything else.

Remus looked into his eyes for a long moment before he lowered his own and sighed. Severus looked out of the window, unable to face the werewolf's desperate reaction. So there wouldn't be any encouraging words after all. But he didn't want this to end. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. Why couldn't he say it? Why couldn't he tell him?

"I don't want it to end either, Severus," Remus said quietly and Severus started. "Don't let these moments slip through your hesitant fingers. One day there might just be none left."

It was an unusually short comment and Severus spent a few seconds waiting for more to come before he realised that all had been said. Remus smiled at him, though his brow was creased, and his hands were still trembling in his lap. And wasn't this one of these moments? Severus pulled his chair so close to the bed that his knees were touching the mattress and reached for Remus's hands, leaning in to capture that smile with his lips.

"Why can't it last?" whispered Severus against Remus's lips, rubbing his thumb over his jaw.

"It will," Remus replied, "if you hold on."

It lies with you. Remus hadn't uttered those words but Severus had made them out clearly between his lines. But was it that easy? Or that difficult? Remus could always forgive. Would hold on no matter what, even if it cost him everything. Severus was not so sure about himself. In the end, probably after that very term, if Remus were the aggressor, Severus would be tried. Shouldn't he be able to succeed? Since he had so much to gain? And even more to lose?

"I will try," he mumbled and before Remus could give him a reproachful reply he had kissed him again and pushed him into the pillows, carefully avoiding the fragile ribs Remus had indicated as his weakest point.

It was a few languid kisses later, or so it appeared to Severus, when his eyes were forced open by the bright light of the morning sun. He was lying, fully dressed, on his back in Remus's four-poster, the werewolf by his side, tousled head on his chest. Severus blinked a few times, startled, looking around to find his outer robe still discarded on the chair before the bed, and his cravat on the nightstand alongside Remus's teacup. Remus was wrapped in the blanket, curled around Severus's side, still fast asleep, recovering from the exhaustion of the past day.

It felt as if they shared one body, Severus couldn't tell apart his own body warmth from Remus's. He suspected that, actually, none of the warmth was his own, but Remus's, being transmitted to him to become his. Severus took a deep breath, his chest heaving Remus's head a few inches upwards, and took in that sweet scent around him that he was so familiar with. He scolded himself half-heartedly as he decided to just close his eyes again and stay where he was for a few more minutes. Or hours. Possibly years. Remus had made him an idler. But was this idling? Wasn't it rather active enjoyment? The answer, he realised, didn't matter. There was only his desire that mattered. And he desired to stay here like this, close to him, _with_ him. It felt natural. It felt like the most normal thing to do. It was intimate. And as scary as that was, Severus couldn't resist it. It felt far too good. Too good to be true, perhaps. It did not matter. Nothing did. Just this moment. Just this weight on his chest. Just this arm round his waist. Just this.

And even darkness seemed bright.

When next he opened his eyes, Severus was confronted by a waft of many smells: coffee, toast, bacon, egg and… was that croissant? He squinted in the sunlight, which was now shining directly into his face, and made out the outline of a beaming werewolf, bending over him. When Severus sat up he noticed the platter on his legs, laden with breakfast for two. It was all Severus could do to stop the blush rising in his cheeks when he looked into Remus's penetrating eyes, still rather dull but brighter than the day before.

"Good morning, sleepy head," grinned the werewolf. "I didn't want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. I asked an elf to bring this up. I hope you are hungry."

He reached for one of the croissants and broke it in two to offer one half to Severus who took it automatically. It was a clear gesture; sharing. We share something. We share so much. A breakfast. A bed. A body. A soul. How singular.

Remus smiled warmly at Severus when he noticed his absent-minded stare at his half of the croissant. "It is nice to wake like this, isn't it?" he asked. When Severus didn't answer and just swallowed, turning his embarrassed gaze downwards he added, "Indeed it is. I could get used to this."

It took Remus another day to get so well that he could leave his rooms. Severus provided him with another set of strengthening potions but could not stay with him for he had already done so the day before without leaving the werewolf's side and now he had to get back to his office and be there for the students of his house and of course for whatever professional request Albus might have.

When he sat down at his desk, Severus found loads of pamphlets and Ministry envelopes scattered over it. He sighed indignantly. There were still two weeks left before the summer term started and yet he was already confronted with the task of preparing the Careers Advice for the Slytherin fifth-years. Sometimes his Head of House tasks annoyed him more than usual. He could still remember his own Careers Advice and that he had found it absolutely useless and a complete waste of time. He knew of course that nowadays, children needed a perspective other than becoming the Dark Lord's followers, and that was all fine, but he still loathed the task of suggesting possible professions. He didn't feel like the right person for that. He was much too impatient with the children, much too harsh and condescending when dealing with their marks and their possibilities to improve them and much too ignorant and insensitive to detect hidden talents or qualities of their personalities. And in spite of what the other teachers and of course the students might think, he was _not_ indifferent to the future of those he was responsible for.

Severus found the list of students, with notes from all other teachers beside each name under the many papers and envelopes and took a look at it. Actually, he decided, he wasn't in the mood for all this now, so he took everything and stowed it away in a drawer under his desk. He would take care of that later. One thing couldn't be delayed, though; Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall had all written him a note that they politely asked him, even though they knew of his "additional workload", to kindly fill in the gaps in the "Potions" column of their respective lists of fifth-years as fast as humanly possible. Severus glowered down at all three lists and took out a quill to indignantly write everything down that the others would need to know, taking especially great pleasure in defaming the Potions skills of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

In the following days Severus came across many Gryffindors and Slytherins calling each other names, punishing such conduct with the loss of a considerable number of points. It was obvious that the last game of the season was drawing nearer and it rather irritated him. Yes, he was rather irritated. Even more so because Draco Malfoy kept asking him why Potter had not been punished for having been to Hogsmeade and thus reminded him of the fight between Remus and him. Severus told him rather harshly to drop it, succeeding in stopping him from asking. Severus rather wanted to be reminded of what had followed the fight, though, so he hadn't changed his bed sheets, but the werewolf's scent on them had become faint. He wondered when or if Remus would share them with him again and while doing so he stained one of the three lists of fifth-years in green ink.

When Remus visited Severus's quarters on Wednesday, all pain and all despair that he had felt after the full moon seemed entirely forgotten, and even though Severus knew that that could in no way be the truth he didn't bring the matter up and instead let the werewolf take a look at the many pamphlets that were now scattered over the coffee table. Remus chuckled, a nostalgic sparkling in his eyes, when he reached the pamphlet about "Educational Professions".

"This one was mine," he muttered with a broad smile. "Though I listened to Professor McGonagall's other suggestions, I had my eyes fixed on this one all the time and I remember being very stubborn about it. But I think she was quite pleased with my choice."

Severus nodded in agreement. It had been the right choice, after all. Though working as a teacher must have been a rather seldom pleasure in Remus's life, regarding his difficulties with wizards. Professor Slughorn would have liked to see Severus as either a Healer or a professional Potioneer. Severus had taken the pamphlets with him as far as to the next wastepaper basket. He sighed, wondering what might have become of him if he had given a second thought to a real career especially because he had had all the skills necessary for success. Remus laid a hand on his thigh like he had developed a habit of doing, making it tingle pleasantly, and glanced at the list of Slytherins in his hand.

"Shall I help you find possible professions for them? I think I could come up with a few," he offered and Severus handed him the list with grateful relief. He watched Remus scribble a few notes behind each name and then listened to the reasons for his suggestions. Severus, though he was extremely averse to admitting it, supposed that this year's Careers Advice would be a little better than usual. Severus spent another hour brooding over the list of notes that the other teachers had filled in and writing down who would need to improve and who would be forced to do something which didn't please them. All in all, he was rather satisfied with this year's candidates and so was Remus, as it seemed. He was full of praise for several of them and convinced that at least one would choose to become an Auror and maybe two of them wanted to become Healers.

"Regardless which house they're from, they will do well," the werewolf insisted, casting a reproachful glance towards Severus. "House prejudice is the silliest thing I know. It is constantly in your way, is it not?"

Severus snorted, thinking of Remus's gang of friends who had always loathed Slytherins. But then again, he had been no different. And he still was rather disapproving of Gryffindors. Actually he was disapproving of all houses but Slytherin.

"As a Hufflepuff or a Slytherin you have problems with prejudices but Gryffindors and Ravenclaws are always wanted, aren't they? Rather agreeable characteristics, bravery and intelligence…" Severus replied, giving up on his work for the moment to pour himself a glass of wine and turn his attention to Remus.

"Well, that's why I don't approve of this house-nonsense. I think that the students would get along better without it. Just look at them fighting in the hallways." Remus took the glass of wine from Severus to take a sip and hand it back to him. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back out of his eyes but a grey lock fell into his forehead and gleamed in the torchlight of the sitting room, drawing Severus's attention to it. The Potions master started suddenly.

"Oh," said he and Remus looked up at him with a questioning look. "I forgot."

"What did you forget?"

"Your birthday," Severus replied.

Remus chuckled. "No, it is tomorrow. And what does it matter, really?"

"Well… You remembered mine," Severus muttered and sipped on his wine, more to hide behind the glass than to drink. He received a kiss on the cheek and a raised eyebrow.

"Don't worry about a gift. You know, as long as I'm allowed to spend the day with you I have all that I could wish for."

"Allowed?" Severus asked.

Remus smiled warmly and leant in to kiss him. Severus laid an arm round him to deepen the kiss and set down his glass. Just a few weeks before such close contact over such a long period of time would have made Severus rather uncomfortable but today he didn't want to let go. Remus seized the chance to embrace him and after breaking the kiss he stayed close, fiddling with the clasp on Severus's outer robe.

"It _is_ a privilege," he muttered.

"Indeed? Spending your birthday with me? If anyone had heard that just now, they would have brought you to a closed ward at St. Mungo's," Severus said, waving his hand to bring order into the paper mess on the table. Remus shrugged rather indifferently.

"They don't know you. It is you who made the more outrageous choice," said he quietly. "The only reason why this relationship is possible is the fact that no one knows about my condition."

"No," Severus replied indignantly, "it is the fact that you have said condition."

Remus didn't answer but he opened the clasp he had been fiddling with and pushed the robe off Severus's shoulders. They looked into each other's eyes for a few endless moments until Remus regained his speech. "So you…" He paused as if he didn't want to say the wrong thing, as if he wanted to avoid certain words. "You like to be with me because I'm a werewolf?"

Severus rolled his eyes and shook his head. He could barely imagine that it was so dark to the werewolf. "No, I… I just don't believe that you would have become the personality that you are today if you hadn't been a werewolf. And I think that is perfectly true. After all, the base of our connection was founded on comprehension and somewhat joint feelings. That wouldn't have been possible without your 'condition'. So maybe it _is_ fate."

Remus frowned, then smiled and no matter how hard Severus would have tried to imagine it, he couldn't make out even one tiny little spark of the prankster and the Gryffindor boy who hadn't stood up against his friends, forever weak and ill. Today there was a man sitting in front of Severus, though having lost nothing of his handsome features and his charming smile, not only his appearance had matured. Life had left its traces, positive and negative. And though he was still a mystery to Severus like he had been at school when he had spied on him to discover his secret, the mystery's character had changed. Severus was determined to enjoy his presence for as long as he had it and, by Merlin, he would hold on even though he knew he was not at all good enough. He would not let him go anymore, he would not push him away and he would not lose him! He didn't care about his doubts or about Remus's secrets anymore. He was his and he wanted to keep him. Come what may.

Remus's eyes locked with his and suddenly the werewolf started laughing as if at a thought he had had, making Severus look at him skeptically. "Ah, I'm sorry. I was just thinking… about how I want to die one day."

Severus scowled at him and he quickly continued. "Well, you see, during the war I often had such thoughts and we discussed it once. Sirius always wanted to die in battle, as a hero so to speak… James hoped that if he were to die early, then while protecting his family… managed that, didn't he?" Remus paused, his voice heavy and he turned his eyes downwards to look at Severus's fingers, intertwined with his own. "Peter just sputtered and said he didn't want to die at all. And I… well… they scolded me for it but I never wanted to die as a soldier, fighting, like them. I wanted to die old and satisfied in my bed and in the company of those that I had loved and who had loved me."

Remus chuckled but his voice shook a little and Severus averted his eyes to stare at the empty fireplace. "I never wanted to fight… I wish I could be spared the next war but I know that's not possible. I hope I'll survive but if I don't… if I die… I want it to be by your side."

Severus swallowed. "I… cannot promise you that that will be physically possible… but… after all…" He stopped, at a loss for words, and let Remus finish for him.

"After all, you are always by my side." He smiled and Severus looked at him. "If we grow old, Severus, let us grow old together."

Severus snorted and shook his head at the werewolf's silly thoughts. And if we die… let us die together, he thought, but didn't voice it. It would have been too much to say. Too much to demand. And probably exactly what Remus would have wanted to hear.

"Let us discuss that when it is relevant," said Severus instead and rubbed his thumb over the other's cheek to brush away a treacherous tear. "Wasn't it you who said that the _now_ is important?"

Remus laughed again. "I'm terribly sorry. I seem to be setting a bad example, not keeping to my own advice."

"Not at all…" Severus murmured. "It is good to know that I'm not the only one who wavers when confronted with strong emotions."

Remus beamed. "I hope it does not irritate you. I thought maybe you found me silly or annoying at times."

Severus raised a surprised eyebrow. Insecurity. He had never before seen it in Remus about such banal things. Apparently even he worried about how satisfactory he was. Severus smirked in a mocking way and said, "Well, of course there are situations in which you behave like a member of your house would but… I must say for a Gryffindor I find your conduct rather agreeable."

"Oh, Severus, don't flatter me so," grinned Remus, "I'm blushing."

"To put it quite frankly: I hoped you would," Severus retorted silkily and was extremely self-satisfied with the effect of startling Remus into silence and a real and perfectly pretty crimson blush. After all, usually he was the one at the receiving end of rather silencing remarks from the romantic Gryffindor. Severus smiled into their soft kiss and when all torches had been extinguished and the castle was asleep, Remus renewed his scent on the red silk sheets.


	25. Wrong

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: There is one situation from the book that might not be obvious. It is the night when Harry sees Sirius in dog form on the grounds. Just that this time it is Remus who sees him.

**Wrong**

Remus's birthday was spent quietly and pleasantly after waking up next to each other. All students were studying and nowhere to be seen and despite Severus's aversion to being seen together they took a rather long walk over the grounds and even ended up in McGonagall's office after she had spotted them walking up to Remus's rooms together. She poured Severus a glass of Scotch and Remus who had proved rather less fond of her strong alcohol received a bottle of Butterbeer. Minerva had not asked why they had been walking through the corridor together but she had shot Severus a skeptical glance which he had countered with a challenging glare and Remus had laughed the matter off, saying that he had forced himself on "poor Severus" once again.

The witch gave Remus a box of her newest chocolate chip shortbread which he accepted with a boyish delight that made it difficult for Severus to hide his own pleasure about it. After a while they were joined by Albus and Flitwick and by the time Hagrid arrived in the Deputy Headmistress's office they were all sitting rather close together; that gave Remus an excuse to touch his knee to Severus's and press his shoulder to the Slytherin's with quite satisfied a smile. Severus on the other hand had a hard time scowling into the round, knee to knee with the warm werewolf.

McGonagall congratulated him on having lured Severus out of his dungeon for once and Remus's sincere laugh was almost too much for Severus to maintain his cold and indifferent expression. The roasted almonds, dipped in chocolate, that arrived by owl had no addressee and sent everyone guessing wildly at whom they might be from, a secret admirer most probably – and, oh, how wrong they all were. Only Remus and Severus knew the truth and a sweet smile of that exquisite quality was all Remus needed to give as a thanks. Severus feared that he had spent too long a time with a hopeless romantic and Gryffindor after all.

In the evening Remus insisted that Severus stay with him and after a half-hearted attempt at resistance Severus gave in. It was an unusual feeling to sleep in another bed but in the end it was irrelevant whose bed it was as long as the person beside him was Remus. As long as the waist his arm was wrapped around was Remus's. As long as the melodic breathing in his ears was Remus's. Severus had never spent so little time in the dungeons as during the following days.

Remus, Severus had noticed, avoided the topic of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match very carefully over the holidays. It was like a taboo topic that would only lead to quarrels and whenever Remus noticed that a conversation was going that way he quickly changed the subject. Severus smirked every time and shot him a knowingly raised eyebrow but let himself be distracted without objection.

The students were not that consequent, quite the contrary: by the end of the holidays, fights had started breaking loose and more than once Severus had to separate his Slytherins from the Gryffindors with a deathly glare and an almost drawn wand. At least they were so scared of him that they didn't risk him really using his wand. In only a few days Gryffindor had lost at least eighty points which Remus was determined to refill, scolding Severus for his harsh punishment of the Gryffindors and for his slack handling of the Slytherins.

"Do you think that favouring your students makes you a good Head of House? Because I think there's more to it than that," said he and Severus couldn't restrain himself from snapping at him.

"I've been in this position for quite a while longer than you have been in yours and I know very well what there is to it!" Out of everyone he knew Remus was the last person whom Severus wanted to complain about him. Because it mattered, and because Severus wanted him to see that he was doing a good job. Because he was, wasn't he? "So, if you have any complaints about how I'm doing my job then you should ask Albus why I still have it."

Of course Remus fell silent and didn't press the matter further, though his lips became rather thin and Severus could see that he was upset. He probably thought that his words didn't matter, but they did, greatly so. That was the problem. Because his indifferent, fearless self-confidence and his whole magnificent person let Severus lose his steadfast dignity in front of himself. And in front of others. It made him defiant as usual. Remus thought he knew what he was capable of, therefore he showed that he was equal to all the other teachers, but he was wrong. He knew only half of what he was capable of, he underestimated himself terribly.

Once Remus incidentally walked along a corridor where Severus was taking points from a Gryffindor boy for having called one of his Slytherin team-members a very foul word, and he tapped his shoulder with one of his mild smiles.

"Lupin?" Severus said in a threatening tone but as usual Remus didn't see any reason to fear him. And why should he, really, Severus thought. The group of Gryffindors who had gathered round their punished house member put on relieved looks and Severus had the impression that some were even cheering their DADA Professor on. How very annoying.

"There, there, Severus. Let's not forget Mr Bole, here," said he pleasantly and nodded toward the Beater. "After all, it was him who started the argument, so let's stay fair. What did you make it, Severus? Twenty points? Then it's twenty points off Bole, too, I think. And now run along."

The children walked away into different directions and Severus was fuming when he turned toward Remus who just shrugged and gave him one of those "you had it coming" looks.

"Don't you dare sabotage my authority!" Severus hissed and yet again it had no effect.

"I'm a master of this school, too, Severus."

Severus huffed and turned to walk away into the direction of the dungeons, furious about their situation of continuous quarrels and irritations. Severus's anger at Remus for having interfered didn't last long, though. With the start of the summer term everything had become busy again and throughout the first week of school he had to give Careers Advice every day. On Monday afternoon the first fifth-year shuffled into his office far more at ease than any student of the other houses would ever have entered it, and sat down opposite Severus, taking a curious look at all the slimy objects in jars that he kept on his shelves.

Severus had spread out all the brochures he had been provided with on his desk and studied the list of marks from the other subjects before addressing the boy, cool and a little helpless as every year, keeping a finger on Remus's notes; or rather his hieroglyphs. To his utter surprise the boy was interested in exactly those professions that Remus had suggested for him and Severus stared at him for a moment or two before he carried on with the interview in a far more reassured manner.

Remus's suggestions proved to be correct in every single case and all students left Severus's office rather surprised at having been so excellently counseled. Severus wore a very smug smirk whenever he was being praised by the other house teachers and Albus, whose usual twinkle looked very knowing, indeed. Severus knew of course whose achievement it really was. He gave Remus a curt nod of acknowledgement in the staffroom and enjoyed the werewolf's happiness about his perfect evaluations in his rooms over a cup of white tea.

"Maybe one day I will be Head of House, too, what do you think?" Remus grinned with a tinge of genuine hope in his voice.

Severus just looked back at him and took a sip of tea before answering. "I must admit you do have rather a talent for it… but let's not get your hopes up too high… McGonagall will last another half century, I'm sure. She will not give the post up easily, you'll have to fight her to prove who's the better Gryffindor and I cannot see your victory there."

Remus laughed at that. "Coming from you, I take that as a compliment," said he. "Still, I'd love to be Head of House. Even though I know that it's not possible. Voldemort's curse has yet to strike me." He chuckled but Severus didn't find it very funny.

"Don't take that so lightly!" he snapped.

Remus looked at him calmly, though unsmiling. Then he took Severus's hand into both of his and sighed. "Tell me, Severus… when he comes back, will you be forced to join him again? With his Mark on you…"

Severus cleared his throat, not meeting Remus's eye. "It is more likely that he will kill me for having deserted him. But if I can be helpful as a spy in his rows, then I will certainly do my duty," said he firmly, though inside he didn't feel very confident. Being as good an Occlumens as he was would probably be his only chance to survive the Dark Lord's return. But who was he to refuse to help as much as he could.

"You're very courageous, Severus. I wish everybody could see that," Remus whispered but Severus shook his head.

"I don't care about everybody, let them believe what they like. It is easier that way," said he with indifference. At the same time he tried to ignore the surge of pleasure that went through his body at Remus's praise. For once he was regarded a hero, and even though the desire to be one was much too Gryffindor for him, he couldn't help liking the experience.

"You fill the role perfectly," said Remus quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"The role of the background hero. Always behind the scenes. Why do you want to stay in the shadow?"

Severus snorted. He didn't know, really. Maybe because he didn't deserve the praise. "As long as you know…" he said.

Remus frowned. "You know… when the time comes and you need someone… I'll be there for you… no matter what happens between us, I will always listen to whatever you need to tell. I want you to know that you're not alone with your task. I want you to know that you can rely on me –" He didn't get any further for Severus smiled at him rather sadly which silenced him.

"Really? Not even Albus listened last time. You know the details are vile… and hard to bear. That isn't for you."

Remus frowned. "You think me that delicate? I've listened before… no matter how hard it will be I will definitely listen. If no one listens to you and shares it with you how can you cope with it?"

Severus felt a piercing pain when Remus smiled reassuringly at him. "But," Severus said and gave a mirthless laugh, "I don't want you to see me as a monster."

Remus stared at him. "Oh," he breathed, "oh, Severus." He shook his head and looked at Severus with a heartbreaking expression. He seemed to be at a loss. Severus looked away and rubbed his neck helplessly. He was very good at upsetting the other, that was certain. "Severus, don't say such things," said Remus finally. "That is nonsense. Some things must be done and sometimes the difference between duty and monstrosity is the purpose and repentance."

This time it was Severus's turn to shake his head. "Don't," he replied and Remus fell silent, his eyes to the floor. "Let's… let's not talk about it."

"But I want you to know that there is someone who is there when you need him!" Remus said firmly. "I want you to know that there is someone who cares!"

There was a short silence between them in which Remus got up and walked to the window and Severus considered him curiously. It was unlike the werewolf to bring a distance between them in such a situation. But probably it had been Severus who had created the distance.

"I appreciate that," said he quietly. "And if it becomes necessary, I might take you up on your offer." Remus nodded at the window and Severus could see his reflection's troubled face. "It is my burden. I wouldn't want to heave it onto your shoulders."

Remus shook his head once again, heaving a sigh and passing a hand over his face. "I want to make it easier for you if I can. That's what you do when you love someone." He shrugged and the golden eyes of his reflection darted into Severus's direction. "If you don't accept it… well. I just hope that when the time comes and you feel terrible that you'll remember this conversation and instead of suffering silently and lonely you will come to me. Even you have limits, Severus, and I don't want you to break only because you help us without us even noticing it. It isn't shameful to seek help nor to be weak once in a while. Especially when one is strong all the time, like yourself. And no matter what happens between us, like I said, I will be there anyway because I will always care about you."

Severus swallowed and folded his hands in his lap. When the time came… when it came he would… he didn't know what he would do. He had not had such an offer at his disposal during the last war even though he had spied for Dumbledore. To the old man he had at first been a despicable being and later he had just been the Slytherin who gave him information. What he was to him now… he didn't know. But hadn't he wanted to tell someone about all the terrible things he had had to do? And it had felt relieving to tell Remus all those weeks before. No one wanted to listen to the crimes he would have to commit. The monstrosities. And yet Remus volunteered. No matter what happened between them. Really?

"I understand," said Severus, though he didn't. "Yet some things are unspeakable."

"You can leave yourself time. The words will come. And you'll see that you'll feel better. And I will be glad that I could help. I will be glad to see your eyes soften," replied Remus.

"But it will weigh heavy on you, won't it?" Severus asked. "All those filthy, murderous truths."

Remus's reflection's eyes darted into his direction once more and Severus saw a soft yet sad smile in them. "What could possibly weigh heavier than –" he said but stopped suddenly, his eyes fixed on something outside. Severus got up when he saw Remus tense and his eyes widen in something like shock.

"What is it?" Severus asked, suddenly alert. "What do you see?"

Remus started and his eyes shot towards Severus and back to the window. "Nothing!" he said too quickly. "There isn't anything."

Severus strode forward to take a look for himself. "Don't be ridiculous! Tell me what it is! What gave you that expression?"

Remus put his hands against Severus's chest and shook his head, preventing him from looking out. "There's nothing, Severus!" he cried but the Slytherin knew a look of shock when he saw one in Remus's eyes and he certainly knew when he was being kept away from something he shouldn't see, so he grasped him by the wrists and forced his way past him to the window to look out, ignoring Remus's "There really is nothing, Severus!", peering through the darkness over the lawn and into the direction of the Forbidden Forest. And indeed there was…

"Nothing," he murmured and turned to Remus, shaking his head. "What did you make such a fuss for, you dunderhead?"

The werewolf stared, first at him then out of the window, as if utterly surprised by the fact that Severus hadn't seen anything. After a moment or two he seemed to have collected himself and nodded somewhat distantly. "I… I thought that," said he thoughtfully and then added quickly, "I thought that I had told you so. You didn't believe me."

How very curious. Severus raised a suspicious eyebrow at him and gave him a look but Remus just stared back at him quite innocently. "Having hallucinations, are we, Professor Lupin?" he said mockingly and Remus grinned and shrugged.

"I told you, I didn't see anything," replied he and Severus nodded.

"Indeed, you did…"

Remus frowned but in the end ignored the obvious suggestion of him having lied. "I guess I'm just tired. It is very late, after all. I think I'll go to bed now."

Severus accepted his kiss but he held him by the arm when he pulled back to leave. "You… could sleep here," he offered and waved his hand into the direction of his bedroom. It was strange to offer that.

Remus smiled but shook his head. "You have to be fit for your match tomorrow."

"You realise I'm not playing?"

Remus laughed and pressed up against Severus with a mischievous grin which was very worthy of a Marauder. "Of course I do and I'm sure your team appreciates that fact," said he and winked at Severus who glowered back. "But I would hate you to oversleep and miss Gryffindor's victory."

Severus glared at him and he chuckled, stepping back from the Potions master. "As you wish, Remus. Although I do not understand where you got the idea that your sleeping _next to_ _me_ would exhaust me in any way," Severus said, though he knew that it would indeed excite him. Remus seemed speechless for a second, then he laughed again and covered his blushing face with his hands.

"You _do_ have a point, Severus, I'm terribly sorry for my utterly indecent thoughts," he laughed and Severus smirked. "Of course that changes everything, though I'm sure that you've already changed your mind."

Severus turned away and walked into the direction of his bedroom to open the door and step aside. Remus's face lit up and he entered, followed by Severus who smirked in a self-satisfied fashion. Remus smiled and shrugged. "I believed you didn't think much of sharing a bed."

"Then you were wrong, obviously," replied Severus. "As you are about the match."

Remus undid his cravat, a different one from the cravat that he usually wore. "Since when do you like Quidditch, anyway?"

"Since Slytherin is the best at it."

"So, you'll hate it again tomorrow?"

"You are in a provocative mood, aren't you?"

Remus chuckled and apologised, settling down under the covers.

Severus was woken by a soft kiss, yet before he could open his eyes he heard the door fall shut behind the man who had given it to him, and the flare of the flames which undoubtedly brought him to his own rooms. He sat up groggily and smirked after Remus, running a hand over the ruffled sheets that he had slept between. He got out of bed and put on his set of green robes for the match. At breakfast Severus received a few challenging looks from McGonagall which he just warded off with the usual self-confidence that he felt before all Quidditch matches. After all it _did_ look better for Slytherin. Though he wouldn't put it past Potter to steal the Cup today just because it was Potter.

As usual the teachers strolled down to the pitch in groups and McGonagall wished Severus good luck, shaking hands with him rather stiffly. Severus nodded and when the witch ascended the stairs to the commentators box, Remus stopped beside him, pretending to be waiting in the queue in front of the stands.

"So… I wish you good luck, Severus. But I hope that you won't be upset that I have your consolation prize ready," he said pleasantly, letting a group of Ravenclaws pass him, and received a rather curious glare.

"Consolation prize?" Severus asked, moving towards his team who were standing on the pitch.

Remus winked at him and his boyish grin couldn't have been wider. Severus shook his head when Remus reached out a hand to shake his but he took it and came closer for an instant to whisper into his ear.

"If you think that you can tempt me with that…"

"Oh, no, I'd never. I'm not taking sides after all. I was just thinking that you will need some cheering up later," replied Remus. "Oh, and by the way… green suits you extraordinarily well."

"Careful, Professor," growled Severus when Remus let himself be swept off by the crowd but when he turned he couldn't keep the smile from his face, though it was rather grim. He was in a conflict now. Losing wasn't that much of a disaster and winning bore victory but no… consolation – whatever that would be. When he reached the team he laid his hand on Draco's shoulder – the boy had looked rather pale all morning – and wished them good luck.

"Do your best!" said he and his team nodded determinedly, though Draco gripped his broom rather hard. When Severus sat down in the front row of the stands behind the Slytherin goalposts his smile just became grimmer; he could make out Remus just opposite him and he was sure he could see the light in his eyes which was his Gryffindor spirit and of course the spirit for Potter. How brightly would he shine if Gryffindor won? Severus wanted to see it and yet… ah, it was a conflict indeed.

That changed a few minutes into the game when suddenly his team started cheating and fouling violently to try and keep control over the match. Severus could see Remus shake his head disappointedly and rise from his seat in angry agitation, throwing a blaming arm into the air towards Severus. Severus rubbed his forehead and looked away, hoping dearly for a Gryffindor victory just so he wouldn't need to endure the reproaches and the anger of not only one of his colleagues. It was Slytherin from their worst side, certainly, but then again, those youths were forced into the cliché, weren't they? Why else would three-quarters of the school wear scarlet?

Remus was right, after all. The houses in the way they were divided into groups of character traits were not only positive, like that they only deepened what they already had instead of learning from one another. Though he was proud to be a Slytherin. Like Remus was proud to be a Gryffindor. Or was he? When Draco pulled on Potter's broom to prevent him from catching the Snitch and Hooch almost lost her temper about it he wasn't so sure anymore. Probably he shouldn't have said "do your best", obviously his team had misinterpreted it. And then, suddenly, his heart sank and pounded faster at the same time: Draco was diving for the Snitch and Potter was far away. But that blasted broom of his, of course, let him catch up quickly and soon he was beside Draco, stretching out his hand, and…

A deafening roar went through the scarlet crowd and Severus buried his face in his hands for a moment, not sure whether he was disappointed or relieved. He got up immediately and left the stand, falling back behind the many people storming in on the Gryffindor team. It was odd to see someone else win the Cup. It was a strange feeling of loss. He leant against one of the wooden pillars in the shadows under the stands and watched the scarlet cheering, the hoisting up on shoulders and the receiving of what had used to be his. McGonagall sobbed. He just felt nothing right now. Like he had felt nothing two years before when Dumbledore had just given the House Cup to Gryffindor without warning. That Potter really took everything he could, didn't he? The golden era of Slytherin seemed to be over.

There was a rustling beside Severus and he turned his head to find Remus leaning against the neighbouring pillar, a faint smile on his lips. Unlike everyone else, he wasn't wearing even one red garment or accessory but the shining that Severus had been anticipating was right there; a brightly glowing aura of exhilaration. Handsome indeed, at least he hadn't been disappointed there.

"I'm sorry you lost, Severus," said Remus quietly and Severus huffed. "How are you feeling?"

"I," Severus muttered with a glance at the scarlet blur at the other side of the pitch, "don't know."

Remus nodded slowly and let his head fall back against the pillar, putting his hands into his pockets. "You cannot always win."

"I know," replied Severus.

"And you brought Slytherin many successful years as their Head of House."

"I know."

"I know you're disappointed now but there will be more successful years again in the future."

"_I know_!" snapped Severus and Remus lapsed into startled silence. Suddenly he started laughing quietly and Severus rolled his eyes, raising his eyebrows at him.

"I'm sorry… I just wanted to cheer you up… you looked somewhat lost. I understand that the Cup has been standing in your office since Charlie Weasley left the school?" said Remus with a little smile.

Severus nodded. The scarlet blur didn't seem to ever dissolve. "We had a run. But the Potters are always sure to beat Slytherin, aren't they? We lost the House Cup to them, as well."

Remus pushed himself off the pillar and turned away from the scarlet crowd, starting to walk over to the castle. "Oh… your disappointment… since it was Gryffindor that did this to you, I guess one Gryffindor will need to make up for it."

Severus looked after him, his lithe figure heading up the hill towards the gates of the Entrance Hall behind the green crowd of gloomy Slytherins, and smirked, walking over towards the weeping Head of Gryffindor House to congratulate her. He would need to look a little graver for that, though.

Severus had no time at all to dwell on the loss of the Cup since when he got back to his office he found Remus with his back against the cupboard in which he had kept it, the usual mild smile on his lips. "Tell me, Severus… what did you say to your team before the match? Did you want them to cheat because I challenged you? Because I've never seen such a dirty match…" said he.

"I didn't. I told them to do their best… not their worst," replied Severus irritably. "I'll need to talk to them."

"I see… ah, well, I guess it isn't easy to have six hundred people against you, but today they didn't deserve to win," muttered Remus and chuckled. "By the way, what about that grim smile of yours? I can't even imitate it, it's impossible. But then again… it's you," he smiled and Severus scowled at him.

"That was your influence…" Severus said and again Remus chuckled.

"I see… well," he smiled and stepped closer, "about that consolation prize…"

Severus snorted and crossed his arms. "If you think that you are a consolation prize… I should be glad I lost… what would you have offered to Minerva, I wonder?"

"Oh… no, no, no… this sort of thing is just for you."

"Then I wonder," Severus said when Remus pressed up against him, "what I would have been offered if I had won."

The werewolf laughed and shook his head. "To be honest… I find your proud dignity in the face of defeat rather appealing."

Severus smirked self-satisfactory and inclined his head but just when their lips touched there was a very hesitant knock on the door and they started, stepping back from each other. Remus smiled sheepishly and retreated into the Potions classroom with a wave of his hand, leaving the door slightly ajar. When the knock was repeated even more hesitantly, Severus cleared his throat.

"Enter," he said and the door opened to reveal one of his first years, face tear-streaked. He beckoned her closer and she closed the door behind her, stepping towards him, eyes to the floor. "What is it? Did anything happen?"

The girl sobbed and Severus showed her to a chair, sitting down on his desk in front of her. "They – they don't want me here," she wept. "They said I don't belong into Slytherin because I'm Mu-Muggle-born!"

Severus's face darkened. There were currently three Muggle-born Slytherins at Hogwarts, one of them was sitting in front of him. They usually had a hard time especially in first year and every time Severus had to tell the older students and the children of former Slytherins off because of their taunting and bullying. Yet again a reason why the houses were not only positive.

"And they've just found out today that you're Muggle-born?" he asked and the girl shook her head.

"N-no, they found out a few weeks ago, b-but they don't stop and it's g-getting worse. I don't know if I want t-to stay."

Severus shook his head and laid his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped to be a reassuring gesture. He knew how she felt. How it felt to be bullied. "Don't give in to their bullying, true Slytherins are proud and staunch. And if you weren't one of us the Hat wouldn't have put you with us, your ancestry is unimportant. They're the ones with limited minds. If you can give me their names, I will show them their place and decent behaviour. I won't tolerate it." The girl looked up at him with big teary eyes and a quivering smile and nodded. "Fine. Don't worry, they will not do it again, I'll see to that," he added and there could be no doubting his words. He was rather… intimidating after all. He showed the girl out after having written down the bullies' names, conjuring a handkerchief for her, and closed the door with a heavy sigh.

The worst thing was that most of those particular Slytherins believed him to be on their side, since they believed him to be a pure-blood. Of course he never told anyone the truth. It would cost him his good standing with the pure-blood parents and those dark people whom he would probably need to be trusted by in the future. In the end it was all pretence.

Behind him the lab door creaked and when he turned he was face to face with Remus who smiled at him, looking rather moved. Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "I was wrong, Severus…" said Remus quietly. "You _are_ the right one to be Head of House."

To Severus that sentence was far more than merely a consolation prize. And he found that the aftertaste of it was sweet on Remus's tongue.


	26. Timid

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the passges borrowed from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: An important question asked here that had to be asked at some point, Severus's difficulties with it, some fluff, some angst, and only few chapters to go. By the way, Severus goes to Madam Pomfrey because Remus sends him there. I'm sure he could have done something himself but since he can't hold his wand like that and he's no Healer... and I wanted Poppy in here somewhere ;). ENJOY!

**Timid**

Severus was grateful that the next full moon went much better than the last had gone. This time he was even allowed to stay longer after bringing the Potion, though touching was not possible – not that Severus would have admitted that he regretted that. In fact the full moon went so well that, when he stepped through the fireplace in the afternoon to check up on his patient after he had left him in the morning with the effect of the usual potions, he found himself stumbling right into the werewolf's weak arms. A very husky chuckle rumbled through that sore throat and Severus would almost have burnt the hem of his robe, lingering in the incidental embrace with his back pressed against the mantelpiece.

"I wasn't expecting you so early," croaked Remus, letting himself be steered towards the sofa. "I was putting up a few pictures over the fireplace. But it was rather a nice coincidence don't you think?"

Severus turned to look at the photos in frames that were now standing on top of the mantel and nodded. They were photos from their youth, all with the four Marauders, one with Remus, Potter and a black dog in their midst, standing in front of what seemed to be Florian Fortescue's in Diagon Alley, one of Remus and his parents (his resemblance to his father was stunning) and one of Remus holding an infant Harry Potter.

"Lovely," he grumbled and it made Remus chuckle. "So you've got used to the thought of staying here? Are you finally making yourself at home?" Severus asked but Remus shook his head.

"It's a little late for that, isn't it? Or a little early. If I'm still here next school year, I will start unpacking properly but we both know that's improbable," said he and smiled nostalgically. "It's rather about remembering them. Remembering us. Even if it hurts; though I've moved on, you can never get over such a connection. I love them and I like to think of those times. When we still belonged together."

Severus let his eyes wander from one photo to the next and frowned. He felt miserable about not being part of that "we" that Remus liked to remember, that he would like to return to. Severus wanted to be remembered by Remus in that way, as "us". But the past hadn't been his. His was the present.

"Those were the happy times… during the war we didn't take many pictures. I've just this one with Harry. The one of the Order of the Phoenix still depresses me, so I didn't put it up," Remus said, voice heavy with something that could only be found in his eyes. "All those deaths. And I am one of the few who survived. Sometimes I think dying in a war is much easier and a much more merciful fate than surviving your friends and family. Living with the losses, with the gaps those people leave behind is hard to bear."

Severus lowered himself beside him and sighed. "I must agree. But at least those who survive can live on if they manage to find a purpose again, hard as it might seem. Don't wish for death, that would be foolish."

Remus nodded with a vague smile. "As long as you're there I don't have a reason to die, do I?"

"Did I allow any conditions? There is no 'as long as'!" Severus snapped and it made Remus laugh.

"All right, all right…" said he but Severus wasn't convinced.

A glance round the room told him that the werewolf had been working again and unlike himself he had started preparing the exams. The deadline for the O. and the N.E. was drawing nearer every day and Severus would need to start writing down the tasks to be ready in time to hand them in to Albus. He scowled at Remus's papers and his scrawled writing on them, wishing for just a little of the other's eagerness. To him the only enjoyable thing about the exams were the shocked faces of the students when realising that they couldn't solve the tasks. How cruel. He smirked.

"How cruel, Severus," said Remus in an amused tone and Severus turned toward him. "I can literally hear your thoughts."

"Now that is unfair, after all I do not use my Legilimency on you," retorted Severus and Remus laughed. "Maybe I should… so you know how it feels to be read all the time…"

Remus lifted his hands in capitulation. "But I'm completely helpless, Severus. I don't know a bit about Occlumency and have only my will power to resist."

"I'm sure that would serve you just as well. You are staunch just so you can show people what you're worth," Severus said, making Remus smile. "Is it defiance or just determination?"

A chuckle rippled through the thin frame. "In consequence they're both the same, aren't they?"

"But is it a defiant self-confidence or a determined one?"

Remus rolled his eyes with a sigh. "If you need to make such a precise distinction then you must define it on your own."

Severus nodded, smirking, and laid his hand into the nape of Remus's neck when the werewolf cupped his face with his gentle hands and kissed him. He already knew the answer when he laid eyes upon that mild smile once again, because Remus's defiance was determined. It was not loud and obvious, it didn't force itself on the onlooker, it was no pouting lip, no scowling eye. It was that mild inward smile and pleasant face that had annoyed Severus so many times. Because Remus always kept his dignity. Well, maybe not quite always. Yet when he lost it he did so in a dignified manner. But he certainly always kept it in front of those who thought nothing of him. Certainly in front of those who wanted to show him his place. He smiled into their faces that defiant, that determined, that self-confident smile, covering the anger, the irritation inside him and by so doing, angering, irritating his opponent, and thus winning every single confrontation. Such a rare talent, patience, endurance. He knew his true place. And he wanted to show everyone that he belonged right there. He insisted upon it, didn't he? After all he was a werewolf, not a moron.

"Ash is stubborn," said Severus, running his thumb over Remus's cheek.

"Huh?" said Remus with a confused look.

"Your wand… is made of ash, isn't it?"

After a moment of startled silence Remus smiled again. "Yes," he said, nodding, "that's right."

Help with the preparations for the exams was refused and council was declined. Since Remus didn't have any future at the school anyway he could as well "thoroughly and utterly fail" with the tests that he had prepared himself. And probably his very own style of constructing the exams would end in perfect success and spare him the humiliation. Thus ran his arguments. Severus was sure that Remus would not disappoint.

Remus proved rather clingy in the following weeks, not that Severus minded. Severus's arrogant chess pieces had got used to the werewolf, so that sometimes when Severus had work to do, Remus could play with them on his own. And Severus tolerated him to sit on the table while he was brewing, a very rare privilege, actually a unique one, secretly anticipating the occasional hand to his shoulder. But more than once the werewolf had to hide in the bedroom or hurriedly vanish through the fireplace when Albus paid Severus one of his unexpected and untimely visits.

Hiding their relationship, that was necessary, discretion was important to Severus and Remus didn't complain. He, too, was rather reserved about personal affairs and probably didn't want the staff and even less the students and parents to know and talk about them both. But Severus was surprised to learn about his self-doubts in that particular area. He hadn't expected the werewolf to say what he did one Saturday afternoon.

"I'm surprised that you desire me," his quiet mutter came drifting over the silent chess board.

Severus, who had been brooding over his pieces for quite some time, looked at him from under his eyebrows, his forehead creasing slightly. "What?" he snapped irritably but Remus just stared at the chess board, arms folded on the table.

"I mean… you shouldn't. I don't understand it."

Severus was speechless for a few seconds and just considered the other, the way he ran a hand over the nape of his neck, the way his face blushed just slightly, the way he sucked in his bottom lip and fixed his eyes very hard on one point. Nervous embarrassment perhaps. It could not be nervous expectation of Severus's "yes, actually you're right", after all, or could it? That was absurd. But that seemed to be it. And a whole lot of self-loathing. As if Severus didn't know that feeling. But he had never said anything like that to Remus. He wouldn't. Even though he had thought it. Remus felt unworthy of him. A very good joke.

"Wasn't it you who tried so hard to get closer to me? Or was that your evil twin?" Severus asked sarcastically.

"I didn't say I don't know that you desire me. I do. It is obvious to me. And I am not selfless enough to give up on you because you'd be better off without me. I said I do not understand," answered Remus, turning his tea cup. "I… I'm a werewolf, after all, and… and I'm certainly not of your social standing. How could I be?"

"A werewolf, yes. We've been over that topic, haven't we?" Severus snarled, prodding one of his chess pieces in the back to check Remus. "And wasn't it you who insisted on being equal?"

"Yes, yes, alright, I said that!" said Remus in an agitatedly raised voice, as he seldom applied, that made Severus frown in surprise. "But in fact I am not!"

"And in fact, I don't care. I find it rather pleasant to be…" Severus stopped just before the words "your hero", feeling embarrassed by the mere thought of saying them, "the one you depend on."

This time Remus did look up and gave him a weak smile. "In fact I'm not worthy of you."

Severus rolled his eyes and took advantage of Remus's weak move to checkmate him. "Even if it were so, it is not _your_ problem. And certainly not a reason to spoil a good game with your half-hearted moves," he snapped, and then, his voice softening, he added, "It is of no importance what you are, just who."

Remus shrugged and leant back, clasping his hands together. "I'm just not sure if the who is so much better than the what…"

"Couldn't you have told me that before you succeeded in getting me to kiss you? Then I would have declined of course and waited for some worthier candidate," Severus snapped impatiently. It made him furious to hear him say those things and had they continued the argument he would surely have shouted but, knowing that, he ended it. "You're better than you give yourself credit for and don't you dare argue with me about that!"

He didn't. But his eyes did, sad as they fixed him, and absent as they gazed out of the window. Another thing that took Severus off guard was Remus's bringing up the forbidden topic that was Sirius Black. He hadn't done so since before the holidays but now his face was so anxious and his voice so pleading that Severus couldn't ignore it. It was an uncomfortable situation because it was the break-ins out of everything that Remus wanted to talk about and those, as far as Severus was concerned, Remus knew much more about than everyone else. Severus didn't say anything about that, though, or he tried his hardest not to.

"Severus… do you think… is it possible that Voldemort taught Sirius some extraordinary Dark magic which he could've used to break in?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching nervously.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you really believe that?"

Remus fidgeted. "Well… why not?"

"Why not? Because Dumbledore put up those wards and had the Dark Lord known a way to break them, he would have done so…"

"Are you sure? Maybe he just didn't want to face Albus after getting in. Maybe –"

"No!" Severus interrupted him and closed the book he had been reading. "He _couldn't_ enter, believe me. And even if he had miraculously found a spell to break those wards, nobody but him would have been able to master it."

"But Sirius was always the most –"

"Not even your precious Black would have been capable of it!" Severus snapped angrily, once again annoyed at how Remus glorified the traitor. "I do not know how he got in. But I know that it wasn't Dark magic that helped him. And as you have rightly noticed I am an expert on that particular field, otherwise you wouldn't have asked me."

"He's not precious to me anymore," Remus muttered stiffly. "I'm sorry if I've offended you."

He left Severus's quarters then and they didn't talk for a whole day. Black was never mentioned again.

They had a habit of patrolling together whenever it was their turn to search the castle for curfew-breakers, but one Wednesday night that habit took a duty-neglecting turn that would have given anyone the perfect playground for their nocturnal crimes.

As usual Remus started from the top of the castle and Severus from the bottom and eventually they met in the middle from where on they would stroll about together in the dark, stopping here or there to talk or kiss or just sit down close to each other. This night they met one corridor away from Remus's office and Severus didn't know why or how it had happened but soon he was standing with Remus in the shadow of a suit of armour, pressing the other against a wall, lost in a passionate kiss, and the next moment they were in Remus's office, stumbling through the room into his quarters and to the bed, shedding their clothes on the way rather hastily, knocking over some furniture.

In the end Severus did know why and how it had happened, for Remus had pressed against him after he had said something sappily romantic. Something which was very rare to escape his lips and had tumbled from them accidentally and rather like voiced thoughts of a tired mind.

"When you leave, this place by my side will feel dreadfully empty."

But tonight, incompletion was a feeling that he couldn't even find in his vocabulary.

When Severus woke next morning, pressed against Remus's back, he opened his eyes to a strange object. A photograph of very bad quality in a frame on Remus's nightstand. Severus blinked. It was the werewolf's laughing face, at fifteen or so, completely blurred due to the bad handling of the camera. The background of the picture was focused, though, and just as Severus started wondering why Remus would put up such a photo he spotted a form in it behind the werewolf that made him gape. He spotted himself.

To be exact, he spotted his fifteen-year-old self, scowling into the camera from a few feet behind Remus. It was not one of the enchanted pictures, it was one of those Muggle ones, frozen in space. So Remus had had a picture of him for over a decade, a picture of that exact moment with his exact scowl, rounded shoulders, too big nose and protective curtain of hair. It was rather fetching, the way his school robes billowed in his wake. A little foreshadowing of his teaching robes today. Severus cocked his head to one side. He didn't really like the idea of a picture of him standing around in Remus's quarters, or anyone's, really. Especially such an old photo. But somehow it incited a heat in the pit of his stomach. Why had Remus kept such a photo, why had he put it up?

"G'morn'," croaked the werewolf, rubbing his back against Severus's chest as he pressed further back into his warmth.

Severus started and grasped Remus's arm, looking down into a sleepily cracked open eye. He blinked again and looked back at the picture, comparing Remus's boyish laugh, his straight nose and soft features with the original. Hadn't Severus always thought that he was pretty? He hadn't changed much. Not really. He had lost weight and he had certainly grown older but he hadn't really changed. Hadn't Severus always known that he was handsome?

And what had he thought of himself? He had changed, other than Remus, but was he better now? And why would Remus put up a picture of his old self? Of someone he had ceased to be. Of someone he didn't want to be reminded of. Of someone Remus hadn't found worthy enough to stand up to his friends for.

"Why do you have _that_?" Severus snapped despite himself and jotted a finger into the direction of the framed picture. Remus flinched a little, something that was very unusual. The werewolf turned his eyes to the picture, avoiding Severus's hard stare.

"Sirius took that photo among others and found it funny to leave them the Muggle way. He wanted to throw this one away but I found the look of it somewhat nice so I saved it and kept it in the box with the others…" he explained and ran his index finger over the glass covering the picture. "Well, I came across it the other day and since I didn't have any other photo of you… I thought it would be nice to put this up." He cast Severus an uncertain look. "I'm sorry if you don't like it. But there is something special about this picture. I liked the idea of having one of you as well."

Severus just swallowed and pushed himself up to get out of bed, picking up his linen pants. Remus looked after him as he padded into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the other's eyes. "Please come back to bed, Severus, I will get rid of it, if you don't want it," he called but Severus just closed the door and steadied himself on the washbasin. He looked into the mirror and splashed some water into his face to leave it dripping and strands of his black hair sticking to it.

He hated his looks. They weren't anything that he defined himself by. He had never found them important. Why now? There were so many other things that he could show off, he didn't need a handsome face. But he wanted one. One that helped him cover his flaws. Like Lockhart's had done. For Remus. How pathetic. This wretched creature that looked back at him from the mirror, it was absurd that Remus wanted to look upon it every day even in his bedchamber before going to sleep and before getting up.

Severus saw his own ugly features distort and a wave of anger and hatred washed over him that sent an impulse through the room which cracked the mirror in the middle of his reflection. Losing control not only over his magic but also over his body he smashed his hand flat against the mirror where it had cracked, sending crimson blood running down the icy glass. His breathing was heavy and shallow while the violent emotion rolled off him and before he had even moved one inch he heard Remus's hurried footsteps and the door flew open, slamming against the wall, to admit the werewolf whose worried eyes widened at the sight of Severus.

"What have you done?" cried he and pulled Severus away from the mirror, taking his hand into both of his own. "Does it hurt?"

That question was so ridiculously caring. It made Severus's eyes sting. He told himself that it was the pain. "It's nothing," he hissed and tried to pull his hand away but Remus had a firm hold on it.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why did you do that? If you are angry about the picture, I –"

"I'm not!" snapped Severus but Remus caught his eyes and his own narrowed.

"There is only one reason for smashing a mirror, Severus," he muttered and considered the wound in Severus's palm.

"Oh, really? I count at least three good reasons," growled Severus irritably.

"But they all have the same source, I am sure," replied Remus, looking up. "I've smashed a mirror once. You look at yourself. That is the reason."

Severus raised an eyebrow and despite all annoyance a smirk tugged on his lips. "_You_ have smashed a mirror?" he asked mockingly but Remus's face stayed serious.

"As you know, there are two spirits living in my body," said he and took a washcloth to clean Severus's wound. Two spirits? Ah, yes, and yet he only needed this one to shackle Severus. "I thought you were proud of yourself, Severus, I thought that at least your self-sufficiency was honest."

Severus huffed and turned his eyes away to stare at the blood that was still dripping down the mirror. "You know," he said quietly and swallowed twice before being able to finish his sentence, "that I don't like myself." And I know that you don't like yourself, either. So what's the fuss about? But Severus knew what it was all about. He had argued, too, after all.

Severus felt Remus's eyes on him and his skin started tingling. "Why?"

"Because you look at me!" Severus snapped indignantly. "The knowledge of my capabilities is irrelevant."

"So…" replied Remus thoughtfully, "I make you… insecure?"

"Don't act as if you didn't know!" Severus cried, not even making Remus flinch. "You condescending moron strut about the castle determined to turn my head with your every movement, binding me to you with your ridiculously emotional speeches and your bloody delicacy, you are nothing better than a druid feeding his victim a drugging potion. You befog my head! You make me want to be different and I hate it because it is impossible! I will always be like this and look like this and there would be nothing wrong with that if it weren't for you – _what's so funny_?"

An amused smile had slipped onto the werewolf's lips, making Severus even angrier than he had already been. But then his temper softened due to shame and worry. Again he had insulted Remus in a situation of threatening embarrassment. Amusement was one of the better reactions that could have been provoked. And yet – was it amusement about Severus's self-doubts or about what he had said about Remus?

"I didn't know that," said Remus quietly. "I'm flattered."

Severus stared. _That_ was a reaction that he had neither expected nor could he comprehend it. But then again when could he really comprehend the other?

"What?" said he stupidly.

"I've made the experience that those breakouts of yours mean only positive feelings for me. And if you read between the rude lines, you can well see that those were compliments," Remus answered and ran his fingers over Severus's forearm. "You'll need to see Madame Pomfrey."

Severus let out a frustrated snarl and threw his hands up to grab Remus's face but his movements softened halfway and his fingers brushed over the slight stubble on Remus's jaw. "You are an enigma," said he.

"You might not like your own face, Severus, but there's no need to feel that way because of our relationship," said Remus smiling and took his wand out of the waistband of his pajama bottoms to vanish the blood and mend the mirror. "I find your face calming. I like to look at you. You know, when I pass the Dementors I can barely remember you. And… as long as we like each other, what does it matter that we don't like ourselves?"

He wrapped a small towel round Severus's wounded hand and the fabric was a rough contrast to his soft fingers. Then he embraced Severus with a sigh, passing on his warmth to him, skin to skin. "And now go to Madame Pomfrey or I cannot guarantee that your hand won't fall off."

Severus nodded, embarrassed, and let himself be led out of the bathroom, being handed his clothes. Remus took the picture into his hands and held it up. "So, what about this?"

Severus looked at him, throwing his outer robe over his shoulders. "Keep it," he muttered. "I feel honoured."

"What in all heavens has happened?" Madame Pomfrey cried when she unwrapped the towel round Severus's hand to look at the cut.

"I cut myself while brewing," Severus said impatiently. It wasn't any of her business anyway!

"It's been a very long time since you last had a brewing accident, Professor!" the witch huffed and took out her wand and one of the potions that Severus had made himself.

"So?" Severus snapped, angry that he had to tell her that he was incapable of holding a knife correctly to cover up that he was incapable of controlling himself. He couldn't quite decide which was worse but he knew which needed less explanation.

"I am surprised, is all," she answered and shrugged. "An absent mind?"

Severus just glowered at her. "I don't have all day."

"All right, all right, I'll be quiet," Pomfrey snapped and in two seconds his hand was as good as new again. How else should it have been with his potions as aid.

"So," drawled Severus one afternoon, holding a cup of tea while sitting on the sofa in Remus's rooms, "Black was quite the… crush…"

Remus turned, surprised at the sudden mention of the forbidden name, and raised his eyebrows. He knew that Severus never said anything without a reason, and this time was no different. Remus had been staring rather affectionately at one of his photographs and Severus had to admit that he didn't like the way his eyes kept wandering to Black's disgustingly handsome face.

"Yes, you could say so."

Severus cleared his throat. "And… weren't you very… close?" he asked trying very hard to make his voice sound casual. Failing abysmally, of course. A slightly sheepish and amused grin appeared on the werewolf's face and he shook his head with a chuckle.

"No," he said, the laugh still audible in his voice, and Severus felt relief wash over himself, "Sirius and I never had that kind of relationship."

"But," Severus said over the rim of his tea cup, "you would have liked it to be that way?" Why wouldn't he, really? That would be no surprise. Black had always been the one whom everyone had drooled over. But again Remus shook his head.

"No, Sirius was never anyone I would have liked in that way," he replied. "He was… well, you know how he was." Severus nodded and tried not to show that, after all, he was glad about those answers. "Does it matter?" Remus added and put the photo down on the mantelpiece. "I mean, does it matter to you?"

Severus sipped on his tea and gave a shrug that he hoped to look indifferent. "It is Black."

Remus chuckled again and leant against the fireplace with folded arms. "So this is about competition? You would have been angry to learn that Sirius was with me before you?"

Severus didn't answer, he just looked into his eyes. It was no competition and he didn't know why it even mattered. Even if Black had been with Remus in the past, now it was Severus who was with him. And yet it was a better feeling to know that Black had never shared with the werewolf what Severus shared with him today.

Remus knelt down in front of him and encircled his waist with his arms, resting his head on his chest with a sigh. "As I have never felt for anyone quite what I feel for you… let us spent as much time together as possible, Severus."

Severus snorted, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his stomach and the light one in his head, while controlling the trembling of his hands to stop the treacherous porcelain from clattering. "That is already the case, or do you think that I have any free second in-between your harassment and my work?" said he and Remus chuckled into his chest sheepishly.

"I'm very sorry," he said and grinned up at Severus. "I didn't know that you sacrifice all of your free time for me."

Again Severus snorted. He would never get used to the fact that indeed the werewolf filled much of his time and in ways that he could never have imagined. Yet he knew that he would miss him if he left. He would miss even the idle hours that Remus spent in his quarters only to be near him, only to feel his presence. So he decided not to let him leave. He didn't want to regret anything. He didn't want to lose those words that Remus whispered into his stomach.

"I love you."

And he wanted to have him close when no one else was willing to be with him. And yet he was not absolutely free of doubts. That was made very clear to him by that very question that he had feared for all those months without knowing it, by that question that he had no answer to as it came drifting through the darkness from the foot of his bed at night when he was unable to sleep.

"Do you love me?"

Severus had not noticed the intrusion, it must have been noiseless, the footsteps must have been too familiar, he must have got too careless. He had thought that he was alone, would be alone in his bed all night. It was already rather difficult to sleep alone, wasn't it? Without that peaceful breathing in his ears and the soothing warmth by his side. He would miss that when it was gone. He missed it every night when he was too timid to ask Remus to stay in the dungeons, when he was too proud to get up in the middle of the night and wake him to ask for permission to stay in his bed, to admit his weakness for closeness. He couldn't help it. He had softened, obviously. He had already been addicted months before but now it was even worse. Now that intimacy was at its highest.

Severus propped himself up on his elbows and squinted through the darkness to where Remus was standing beside the bedpost, clad in a dressing-gown, a hand curling round the carved wood, bare feet on the cold stone floor. His eyes were illuminated by the soft moonlight, falling in through the window, deepening the lines around them, intensifying the piercing gleam inside of them. The werewolf was just standing there, unmoving, completely still and Severus wondered if he was really there at all, if he had said anything at all. But he had and the question hung in between them like a guillotine. Remus seemed like a ghost, almost transparent now, his brows drawn together, his eyes narrowed, prepared, it seemed, for whatever there was to be expected from Severus.

But Severus just stared at him and the silence stretched. The question was not repeated and Severus didn't ask for it. He was silent and Remus was, too, neither daring to say anything. Severus couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He felt cornered. Like a deer at the edge of a chasm looking into the eyes of a hungry wolf. He disapproved of this comparison even as it passed through his mind. There was no wolf in the room and he was certainly not a deer. And yet he was facing a chasm. What should he say? He knew the proper answer of course. But he didn't know how to bring it over his lips. If he said it, would he mean it? Would he be sincere? And if he weren't would Remus notice? And if he were would Remus believe him? Or would he think that Severus just wanted to satisfy him so he didn't end their relationship? And would he be right in thinking so?

In those many minutes of silence that passed between them, Severus asked himself that question like he had asked it those many months before. Did he love Remus? Did he? Was this love? Emotions were treacherous and love had never brought him any luck. But he had felt it before had he not? Many years before. Had it felt like this? Or did love always feel different? How did he define love? Was it needing someone? Was it wanting to be with that someone? Was it being content when that someone was there? Was it wanting to make that someone happy? Was it the fear of losing that someone? Or were those feelings only self-interest? Did he only want to never be lonely again now that he knew how "togetherness" was. Wasn't love selfless? Wasn't it free of egoism? And wasn't it a feeling that one didn't need to be scared of? Wasn't it supposed to be worth every risk? Every loss? Just to have loved one second, wasn't that worth a lifetime of a broken heart? And wasn't Remus worth all that? Did Severus think of him in such a way?

Such a short and supposedly simple question sent Severus to the verge of despair over the many questions that followed in its wake. It wasn't simple to him. It was one of the most complicated things on earth, especially because he had been caught off-guard in the middle of the night, lacking sleep. And even though he knew that he could find an answer to every single one of those questions he gave up on it, cancelling every train of thought in an instant. Because he _couldn't _answer. He didn't dare say anything. He didn't dare answer even inside his head. For fear that Remus could see it in his eyes. For fear of the emotion. Love. It was just a word after all. Yet it had so much meaning. Severus Snape did not make such silly confessions. Had never made them. If they were true or not, what did that matter? If he didn't say it, there was no danger from it. And there would be danger. He just knew it. If Remus didn't know the truth, he would continue to speculate but he would never be sure. And as long as Severus didn't know how to label his feelings he wouldn't be in conflict, it wouldn't pose a threat to him.

He felt pressured right now, though. Forced to say something. Yes or no. There was no "I don't know" for Remus. There was no "I'm not sure" in his eyes. To him it was perfectly simple and clear. He _was_ a Gryffindor, after all. And as such, every sign of doubt in Severus's behaviour turned his speculation into the one direction which, Severus realised, he wanted to consider least of all. For he knew that his feelings for the werewolf were not simple and certainly not negative. He didn't use the werewolf. He respected him, appreciated him. Did he like him? Did he love him? He would not answer those questions. It was enough to know that he had intense feelings for him at all, that he couldn't imagine being without him, wasn't it? Though it wasn't the same to Remus, obviously.

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again. He averted his eyes and looked down into the chasm. He could jump now, he could say something and risk everything. Or he could say nothing and risk as much. He didn't know which was better right now. He didn't know whether Remus would accept insecurity. And if he stayed silent he wouldn't be directly at fault, would he? Perhaps, if he waited long enough, Remus would throw him a safety line as usual and he would slither out of this pinch, reach the other side of the chasm by swinging over it in one leap. And yet he felt like a coward, thinking that. It was his turn to say something. But what? Again he opened his mouth, after felt millions of minutes with those boring eyes on him.

"I –"

"Forget it," Remus said at the same time and the safety line was there, just a split second too late. Severus stared at Remus in incredulity and Remus stared back at him in surprise. Then he smiled sadly and shook his head as if to himself. "Ah, no, really. I mean it. No answer is better than the wrong answer. I guess I'm too afraid."

Severus didn't reply. He was speechless. And utterly insecure. Obviously he had taken too much time. Obviously Remus's patience did have an end. Apparently his certainty about Severus's feelings for him wasn't quite as firm as he had made Severus believe. Remus looked at the floor and drummed his fingers against the bedpost before raising his eyes again with a rather heart-breaking expression in them. He took a step forward and Severus swallowed when he let his fingers slide over the silken covers where his leg was.

"I'm sorry for intruding in the middle of the night but I couldn't sleep. I was so restless," said he and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Would you mind?" He lifted the blanket to indicate that he wanted to slip underneath it and Severus snapped out of his stupor, only too willing to let him lie down, though still nervous about what had just passed between them. So he beckoned him closer, still not daring to say anything, and held the covers up for the werewolf while he was shedding his dressing-gown.

When Remus slipped between the sheets he didn't lie down but leant against the headboard and folded his hands in his lap, eyes staring into the dark room. Severus shuffled backwards to sit beside him and followed his gaze to where there was nothing to be seen, to where the moonlight didn't reach.

Then Remus reached for Severus's hand and laced their fingers, looking down at them. "I'm sorry if I have been condescending," said he with a silent smile on his lips. Severus looked at his relaxed features. The sorrow seemed to have disappeared, and yet Severus knew that Remus's emotions were not that shallow and short-whiled.

"No, to call a modest man condescending is condescending in itself," Severus muttered. "It is just that you know me too well. You know how to influence me, you have that effect on me."

Remus chuckled and it made Severus shiver. "I must admit that I am aware of my special influence on you… Excuse me for taking advantage. But if I hadn't, we wouldn't be sitting on the same bed, covered by the same sheets now."

"Most likely not," muttered Severus and bit his lip. He was interested in the answer to one question of his own but it was hard to form it. "Tell me," he said slowly, hesitantly, "when you arrived here, did you have it planned from the start? Did you plan to – ah – to…"

"Seduce you?" grinned Remus and Severus blushed despite himself. He was lucky that it was dark.

"Well… yes…"

"I didn't," Remus said shortly, surprising Severus utterly, though he didn't know what he had been expecting.

"Oh," he said stupidly and again Remus chuckled.

"Well, I didn't know you, did I? I couldn't have known that things would develop like this, " he said and sighed. "But I can tell you that the first moment that I considered you in such a way was that night when you first talked to me… I mean, _really_ talked to me. When you let me see what's behind that stony facade. Do you remember? In front of the castle."

Severus did remember, of course he did. He remembered the smell of the grounds after the rain, too. And they still were like soil and stone, Remus and he, but mingled during constant rain. And he remembered the intimate moment they had shared. That would be a moment for Remus to see as significant, he comprehended that and acknowledged that it had been a starting point. When had he first considered – let himself consider Remus in _this_ way? Somewhere in-between denying his feelings for him and trying to resist them for his own safety, perhaps. But he had felt something from the start.

"But you followed me around all the time, unnerving me!"

"Oh… I didn't say that I wasn't interested in you as a friend, anyway. I wanted to get closer to you and on the way I realised that there was something more. What can I say, I felt drawn to you from the start, I certainly found you attractive but that doesn't mean that I planned to seduce you all along." Remus chuckled and touched Severus's chin and ran his thumb over his lips. "Though I don't like the word… I wanted to make you love me. Like you had made me fall in love with you."

He leant in to press his soft lips against Severus's and let himself slide into a lying position. Severus followed him and laid his arm round his waist, relieved that the werewolf didn't urge him to reply to that last comment.

"I feel safe with you, Severus," Remus whispered.

"Really?" Severus drawled with a smirk. He had heard that from him before, and the feeling it incited in him had not changed. "How utterly foolish of you…"

Remus chuckled and shook his head. "What I mean is, I can sleep better when I'm with you."

"Do you think that when you're alone someone will come and get you?"

"Well… it is possible," Remus muttered and kissed him again. "But that's not the only reason… you just give me that feeling. Does it surprise you? I'm sure you comprehend how it is when there is one person who you can be yourself with. Since you need a mask, as I do, too. And you're the only one who can tame the wolf."

Remus chuckled and seized the collar of Severus's nightshirt. It was true, Severus had tamed the beast, he controlled it, yet he didn't have any control over Remus. But what did it matter, really?

"I love the way you don't judge me because I'm a werewolf, the way you don't care – no – the way you accept it."

And Severus loved the way Remus wanted to be close to him. Physically and emotionally. To _him_ of all people. Oh yes, he was an enigma. Sentimental and romantic and delicate and loving and – Severus could continue the list for centuries. All that mattered was that everything was directed at him. That all that belonged to Severus. He brushed his lips against Remus's and pulled him closer until their chests touched and they could feel their hearts' simultaneous beating.

"It is just another part of you. I… don't dislike any part of you."

"Really?" Remus whispered and pressed their foreheads together. "Not even my secrecy?"

Severus's jaw set for a second. "No… I… trust you."

And there was only one thing that he could have said which would have made Remus happier at that moment. Severus was getting a hang of it at last. But he was still too timid.


	27. Darkness

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Thank you again for your comments :) we're nearing the end of PoA. I hope you like this chapter, I enjoyed writing it. And, yes, I love the Highlands ;).

**Darkness**

The week of the exams was approaching rapidly. And with it a certain gloom on Severus's mind. It wasn't long now. Not long until… he didn't even want to think about it.

It was pitch-black night when his eyes flew open. For a moment he was startled and stared into the darkness trying to find what had stirred him. Then he heard it. It had been Remus's suppressed coughing. The werewolf had caught a cold the other day and Severus couldn't deny that he had been rather happy about that fact. Not because he wished it on Remus, but because he knew that like this he could spend even more time with him under the cover of fulfilling his duty of caring for his well-being, for he was required to nurse him back to health before the full moon and, with false reluctance, to crawl into bed and lie next to him and cradle the werewolf, who pretended to sleep while he actually enjoyed the embrace, in his arms.

Apart from that, the illness seemed to make Remus even clingier than he usually was, forcing Severus to stay in his rooms overnight, always there for a searching hand to find him. Not that he minded. He rather liked it. He would never have asked for extra time together only because the end of the year was close. Even though he wanted it, irrationally. Like this he could just act as if he were there because Remus wanted it. And Remus never failed to remind him of the fact that, after all, it had been his fault that he had fallen ill.

When Severus turned onto his side to touch Remus's arm in the darkness, he remembered that day once again, like so many times in the last hours.

There had been an unpleasant sadness hovering between Remus and him for a little while; in the eye of the possible separation even the werewolf had finally shown nerve and admitted that he was feeling uneasy. Severus had decided to try and soothe both their worries and for the first time in years he had taken a walk through the Highlands, taking Remus along. He knew his way around and since it had been a Friday afternoon they had been able to take their time.

Remus's eyes had gleamed in awe, never ceasing to roam the untouched nature for the next dramatic ray of sunlight on a Loch, the next meandering brook through the moors and the next beautifully rushing waterfall. Everyone who has seen the Highlands knows that their beauty tends to overshadow everything. But Severus hadn't seen anything but Remus, his golden eyes shining, his handsome face so much younger due to his delight. Until the temptation had grown too strong and he had leant in to kiss the soft spot behind his ear, his neck, his jaw, his cheek, his lips. And every square inch of his skin he had been able to reach while Remus's soft sighs had caressed his grateful ears.

Severus pulled Remus's shaking body against his chest and the coughing fit subsided. It would all have been well had it not started to rain.

"I'm sorry, Severus," whispered Remus and rubbed his cheek against Severus's shoulder. "I didn't want to wake you."

Severus kissed the back of his head and let him pull his arm round his thin waist. "I realised that you were trying to be quiet. But what is my purpose here if you don't rely on me?"

"I do… but I thought you wouldn't like being woken."

"I didn't really sleep. And _do_ wake me whenever you want."

Severus didn't say that he liked waking better than sleeping. After all, soon there would be no waking hours like these left. The thick walls of Hogwarts Castle would stand between them once again, along with who knew what other walls that would be rebuilt. Only that this time, Severus wished it weren't so.

Remus who was rather weak against all kinds of illnesses couldn't seem to get rid of this particular one even with the help of Severus's potions. Sometimes Severus thought that he didn't want to. He thought that Remus rather liked the way Severus cared for him and he had scolded him for it several times. But he comprehended why the werewolf liked it. And it wasn't as if Severus didn't do it with pleasure. He had got far too used to being considered a… well, an important part of Remus's life.

The werewolf groaned and turned round to bury his face in Severus's shoulder. Only one day between now and the exams. Severus squeezed Remus's skinny form and screwed up his eyes. The darkness was painful to look at. He didn't want to let go of Remus. He wanted to stop time right then. He hated the prospect of spending one of the last weeks they had together in the castle apart and at work, surveying exams that he had no interest in. And the full moon. A whole week full of Wolfsbane Potion and distance.

"You're squashing me, dear," panted Remus suddenly and Severus loosened his grip on him immediately. Dear. Merlin. He would miss being called that. Wasn't that terribly pathetic? What did Remus want Severus to call him? He had never considered giving him such a title.

The first sunlight crept over the tree tops and fell into the bedroom, tumbling over the floor and climbing onto the bed, illuminating the white sheets covering Severus and Remus's bodies. Severus peered at the other man, trying to make out every single feature and every single line on his face. Remus looked up at him and smiled vaguely, making Severus steal the smile away with a kiss. The Wolfsbane of the night before was still faintly present on Remus's tongue.

Severus didn't even notice that he fell asleep again until he opened his eyes to blinding sunlight, confused at first at the fast rising of the sun until he realised that he had missed at least an hour. Remus was awake, though, his head resting on Severus's shoulder, his fingers drawing pleasant circles on Severus's chest. Severus laid his arm round the werewolf's shoulders and stretched his spine with a sigh. When he let his eyes wander through the room they stopped at his left arm, startled for a moment by the red Mark on it. It was so distant, as if it weren't his arm. Severus had long stopped hiding it from Remus, had long forgotten that it was there. And when he did notice it, it was far away. It didn't matter. Thanks to Remus whose hand moved from Severus's chest to his left hand and up his arm.

"I really need to get ready for the exams, Severus," Remus mumbled for the umpteenth time that week. "I mean, I want to be the one to test them all. After all I don't have much more time being a teacher and I don't want to miss it because of some cold."

Severus just grumbled and said, "The Defence O. are on Monday, you won't test them. You can as well use that day to stay in bed."

"No, I'd rather get up and be there, you know?" Remus replied and sat up, looking out of the window at the Forest. Severus didn't know. He guessed that Remus's strong personal liking of his students was the reason. He let his hand run over Remus's back and pulled at the shabby tee-shirt contemptuously. "Shall I strip it, Severus?" Remus chuckled and looked at him over his shoulder.

Severus, though finding the offer appealing, only scowled. "I don't like it, that's all."

"You don't like anything Muggle…" said Remus and smiled. "You are so very determined to be absolutely magical. It isn't good to deny what's part of you, Severus."

Severus glared at him and he laughed. "It has long ceased to be a part of me."

"It never will, Severus. You can ignore it but it will stay. That's nothing bad, either."

And though Severus hadn't told him to do it, Remus pulled the tee-shirt over his head as if he had looked into Severus's mind and it fell to the floor, discarded and forgotten.

Monday came along far too quickly. Severus woke early and pulled the silk sheets tighter round Remus and himself, sighing in despair. He knew he had to get up and to the Potions exam of the second-years but he couldn't bring himself to even consider it. When he opened his eyes Remus's naked shoulder was the first thing he saw and as if automatically he pressed a tired kiss to it which made the werewolf stir.

"You're awake?" he asked huskily. "You need to get up soon."

Severus groaned and tightened his hold round Remus's waist. Couldn't he even enjoy those last moments of blissful warmth? Remus chuckled and rolled onto his back. The dungeons had been more convenient to spend the night in, they were closer to the Potions classroom and to the Great Hall and besides, Severus was the one who needed things from his rooms and Remus didn't need to get up at all. So they had shared Severus's bed instead of Remus's and it was obvious that Remus didn't mind at all. He rather seemed to enjoy it. Even more so than his own bed.

"Don't act as if you didn't care. I know that you want to stay here, too," snapped Severus.

"Well, sure, but since you must get up there's no reason for me to stay here," Remus answered with a shrug. "Though I would like to sleep here every night. If you just let me."

"Why?" Severus asked and looked round at the cold and miserable surroundings of his dungeons. He had to admit that Remus's rooms were much warmer and cosier.

"Because," Remus said and paused as if to think about it, "because I have very nice memories of this bedroom and the rest of your quarters. When I'm here, it is as if I could see it before my eyes and feel it on my skin." He let his hand stroke over the silken covers and up Severus's arm.

"You know you need not dwell on memories, don't you?" Severus asked quietly and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Remus gave him a lopsided smile and stretched his arms over his head.

"Yes… of course."

He didn't sound confident saying it.

An hour later Severus was gliding up and down the rows of benches in his Potions classroom, looming over a cauldron now and then, stopping here and there to check if the second-years were cheating. Or he acted as if he were doing so, in reality his mind was in his bedroom. It had taken the ring of the bell and the buzzing of voices in the corridors to make Severus and Remus let go of each other when they had been sitting in a tight and sleepy hug, skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, on the bed. It had been hard for Severus to exchange the silky warmth of Remus's body for the rough coldness of his robes. With a last potion against his cold Severus had sent Remus on his way to the Great Hall and had himself set off further down into the dungeons. He had become a sentimental fool. And he liked it. What was it to him if he wasn't behaving like a Slytherin, or a Death Eater? What was it to him that he was doomed and would perish soon? He would, he knew. It didn't matter.

After Severus had collected all the potions from the second-years and sent them out of the dungeons, as a nervous and exhausted mess, he filled a goblet with Wolfsbane and ascended the stairs to the Entrance Hall. There was no one to be seen apart from a lonely werewolf, sitting with his back against the wall on the marble floor beside the gates to the Great Hall. As Severus approached him he looked up and smiled at him.

Severus handed the Potion down to him and leant against the wall beside him, staring at the giant hour glasses. After a while the clank of the goblet being placed on the floor reached his ears and he glanced at Remus who was wiping his mouth.

"How long now?" Remus asked and nodded toward the Great Hall.

"Another two hours," Severus said and Remus sighed.

"My nerves are killing me." He chuckled and rubbed his eyes. Severus folded his arms and considered Remus, then he looked round and when he didn't see anyone he slid down on the wall until he was sitting beside Remus and reached for his hand tentatively, taking it into his. Remus looked at him with a confused smile.

"Is it satisfying to wait here?" Severus asked stiffly and Remus nodded.

"I am sure you will agree with me when your Slytherins come out and you can make sure that they've done well. They will appreciate your presence, I'm certain."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Then I will wait with you."

It made Remus smile even more widely.

And indeed Severus didn't regret it. He wouldn't have believed it possible but when the doors swung open to reveal a stream of fifth-years, the students approached him and Remus immediately, startled by the sight of them standing next to each other, some rather cheerful, others more or less devastated. All the Slytherins' faces seemed to lighten up when they spotted their Head of House and after he had made a tentative inquiry as to how it had gone, many told him rather than Remus of their feelings about the exam. The werewolf was busy with all the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who talked in on him simultaneously and he gave a rather hearty laugh, holding up his hands to calm them down.

After a good quarter of an hour the children bid their goodbyes and dispersed into different directions, leaving Severus and Remus behind in the Entrance Hall. Remus heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his greying hair. "It's nice to be there when they come out, isn't it?"

Severus had to agree. He nodded slowly and let the empty goblet fly into his hands, shrinking it to put it into his pocket. A startling pleasure. And an irrational one. But a pleasure nonetheless.

Afterwards Remus and Severus didn't part ways anymore even though they earned some curious glances from passing students. They remained in front of the Great Hall watching the Potions N.E.W.T course shuffle into it, Remus wishing them good luck and Severus nodding at them encouragingly, or so he hoped. He had the impression that it rather scared some of them. Leaning against the wall side by side and in silence, Remus and he waited until even the last seventh-year had left the Great Hall and when Severus laid his hand on the shoulder of one of the Slytherins in the course in satisfied congratulation, he felt Remus's smile behind his back.

Severus only left for the third-year exam, a Confusing Concoction, returning to the Great Hall with a rather satisfied feeling about having given Potter zero points for his terribly watery result. The boy would never learn. Not that it annoyed Severus, it preserved his number one pleasure of bullying the boy. Number two pleasure, if one counted everything concerning Remus as one.

The werewolf had lingered in the Entrance Hall until dinner, waiting for him, and Severus gave Remus an almost too friendly nod when they separated to walk to their seats at opposite ends of the High Table. He was in a very soft mood which was unusual in itself but even more so in an exam week. Feeling the golden eyes on him, Severus shot glances down the table every two minutes and when he caught Remus watching him he received a flustered smile and a low chuckle.

Severus tried to make his usual scowl stay in place but all he could manage was indifference, a big success under the circumstances. Nothing could have spoilt his mood. Nothing but one thing.

"Good night then, Severus," said Remus and almost Severus would just have continued down into the dungeons. Realising what Remus had said, though, he turned and raised a questioning eyebrow. Outside the Hall they had met and walked towards the narrow staircase that led to Severus's laboratory, Remus babbling about the exams, Severus listening and under the impression that they would walk down together.

"Excuse me?" Severus said and turned towards him.

Remus squirmed a little under his eyes and looked round when he heard voices from the Great Hall, stepping into the hallway with Severus to conceal himself from the students' nosy eyes. "Well," he replied quietly, "I'll go upstairs now. So, I'm wishing you a good night."

"Why, though?" Severus asked and crossed his arms over his chest in a defiant gesture. He knew why.

"You know why," said Remus and nodded toward the ceiling. "The moon is too close."

Severus shook his head and scowled. "No. That is ridiculous. You've been shutting yourself up even more than usual in the last months, I won't accept it this time. Come now."

He moved further down the staircase and was pleased when Remus followed him slowly. "I… Severus, I don't know," the werewolf said and caught his sleeve. "I don't think –"

"But I do!" Severus snapped and seized Remus's wrist, the closest to hand holding he would initiate. "Come on!" He pulled Remus down the stairs with him and finally the werewolf stopped complaining, though he didn't seem entirely convinced and not in the slightest satisfied. But Severus wouldn't accept it today, or this week, or this year at any rate. Yes, he had definitely learnt to articulate what he wanted. Not everything, but some things.

When Severus closed his eyes that evening, lying in bed beside the werewolf, Remus was still rather far away and curled up on his side, his back to Severus. In the morning, though, when he opened his eyes again to the sound of the alarm clock, Remus's head was lying on his shoulder and it seemed as if the full moon was forgotten. Severus didn't understand the fuss anyway.

When Remus woke he withdrew too quickly and almost fell to the floor when he slipped out of bed in a haste to bring as much distance between them as possible. For the moment Severus decided to ignore his behaviour and just scowled into the room as every morning, watching the werewolf dress in a fresh set of robes that he had let an elf bring down the night before. Remus bid him a nice day and apart from breakfast and lunchtime Severus didn't meet him all day.

But in the evening, Remus crawled into bed beside Severus with a heavy sigh, when the Potions master had already thought that he wouldn't come to the dungeons at all. He had undressed with his back to Severus and in a ducked posture as if he wanted to hide from him. Again he lay down far away from Severus and shot him a sidelong glance which Severus answered with a mockingly raised eyebrow. Remus smiled slightly and inched closer.

That night Severus barely slept. Remus squirmed all the time, got up and walked round the room, laid back down again and sat back up a few minutes later, rubbing his eyes. He turned over and over, shifted uneasily and walked into the bathroom to splash water into his face, came back to lie down beside Severus only to begin the same procedure again after three minutes or four. Severus woke up continuously only to drift off into a state between asleep and awake again. Once or twice he tried to hold Remus by the arm and, very unlike himself, to embrace him, but the werewolf couldn't or wouldn't stay in bed or even in the same place for longer than a few seconds. After a while Severus gave up on it and just watched Remus's restless wandering with half-shut sleepy eyes.

At ten in the morning Severus was ripped out of a short sleep rather violently by the alarm clock. He couldn't believe that he had even slept at all. When he turned his head to the left there was Remus sitting up in bed and giving him an apologetic look, eyes bloodshot and with dark circles under them. Severus was sure that he didn't look any better.

"Sorry," muttered the werewolf and Severus snorted mirthlessly.

"As if you could help it," he said and swung his legs out of bed. "I had no idea."

Remus touched his shoulder and sighed, fidgeting a little. "I feel uneasy in my body," he said quietly. "As if it weren't mine. It is…"

Severus nodded and cupped his hand on his shoulder with his own.

That morning, Severus and Remus had their breakfast in the staff room along with McGonagall and Vector who were having a discussion about the exams of the day. The Charms O. were taking place in the Great Hall and the four of them had risen too late for a breakfast at the High Table. Severus looked over at Remus's food and gave the other man a nudge when he saw him shoving his scrambled eggs over his plate listlessly.

"Stop that and eat!" he ordered and Remus gave him a bewildered look.

"I'm sorry. It's the moon. I feel nauseous," he mumbled and took a tiny bite of his toast.

Swallowing the Wolfsbane seemed to be an especially hard task that afternoon. Severus watched Remus warily but the werewolf managed the whole goblet in careful sips and smiled lopsidedly when he handed it back with the usual wrinkled nose. Severus thought he had seen a strange gleam in Remus's eyes flicker and go out then. As if the Potion had extinguished the wolf's flame inside of him. He had never noticed it before.

The gleam was back in the evening, though, Severus could make it out very clearly when the werewolf leant in to kiss him hello, having arrived in the dungeons after the last exam of the day and sitting down beside him. It was a chaste kiss, a quick one. Due to the wolf's presence Severus supposed. His gentle touches were unwanted, his nuzzled affections rejected. Remus gave him a look that was in-between indignation and apology. There was a plea in his eyes when he took hold of Severus's wrists to hold them down and prevent Severus from touching him. And when Severus inched closer and leant in slowly, Remus tried to keep a distance between them by leaning back but his back hit the armrest of the sofa and Severus closed the gap between their lips pressing them together in a firm kiss that Remus returned. It caused him to let go of Severus's wrists and the Potions master touched his face gently, while Remus's hands held onto his upper arms.

When they broke apart and Remus gave him a half worried half anticipating look, Severus could see the unwanted gleam clearer than ever and his jaw set. Remus didn't want to share such moments with the wolf, didn't want to lose himself and leave his body to the beast. But Severus would not just let it seize the time they had left, would not let it put up borders that couldn't be crossed. To him there was no wolf. There was only Remus. And this body was Remus's. It was only to be shared with Severus. And yet there was that mocking gleam, the greedy desire of the monster, ready to take control. Staring into the eye of its tamer.

"I will extinguish it," Severus whispered and Remus gave him a confused look. Severus kissed him again and unfastened the clasps of his outer robe. "I will make you feel comfortable."

Despite Remus's initial objections and articulations of worry he let himself be lowered onto the bed and watched Severus warily when he shed his own robes. Soon that wariness was lost in the hoarse sounds Severus drew from his mouth and even though the werewolf tried to shove Severus away halfheartedly a few times, squirming under his hands, the Potions master had the impression that his head was clear and that his soul was far more compatible with his body than it had been in the past two days.

Remus didn't ask him to stop, and after a while he let himself melt into Severus quite naturally and pressed into his every touch with that expression on his face that was only for Severus, and those sighs on his lips that were full of his name. It was an incredible relief for Severus to see the effect he had achieved, to see that, after all, _he_ was capable of pushing the wolf down, that Remus trusted him so much that they could finally be together until even the last moment before Remus's body was taken over, instead of shying away from what might happen and from what could perhaps not be suppressed. But they were Remus's gentle hands on Severus's skin, and Remus's soft lips on his own; no trace of the beast, not a single animal feature. The alien gleam was suffocated by their kisses and not one fear proved to be necessary.

With the werewolf's body pressed against his and his face buried in the other's sweet-smelling hair, Severus had a satisfied smile on his lips all night and Remus didn't even stir once in his peaceful sleep.

"What have you tortured the third-years with, by the way?" Remus asked huskily, his head on Severus's shoulder and his soft fingers caressing his chest. Severus snorted. The sun's first rays were sneaking into the bedroom and though they could have got up, Remus and Severus rather indulged in the loose embrace they were entangled in.

"If you want to know what I've tortured _Potter_ with then say so," he said in a low voice and Remus chuckled, caught in the act.

"He is not the only child I'm interested in."

"But he is the one you are most interested in," Severus muttered. "It was a Confusing Concoction and I daresay he messed it up."

Remus gave him a look. "Oh, Severus, it can't have been that bad. Was it the correct colour?" he asked and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"And did he add all ingredients in the right order?"

"Yes," Severus repeated in an indignant growl.

"What was wrong with it?"

"He added the scurvy-grass too early, he should have waited for another five minutes and stirred more slowly," Severus said in a rush and Remus smiled.

"What was wrong with it?"

Severus scowled at him. "It was too watery," he muttered and Remus sighed.

"And you gave him…?"

"Zero."

"Oh, Severus!" Remus pushed himself up on his elbows to look at him and shook his head. "Do you really, honestly believe that it is justified to give the boy zero points for such a slight mistake?"

"Slight?" Severus snapped. "It makes the potion much weaker, it wouldn't cause confusion, only slight disorientation!" Remus gave him another look and he was forced to give in. He couldn't believe that he let himself be forced to give in. "Oh – well…"

"I don't say 'give him eight points', only to let him pass," said Remus and Severus pushed him back down onto his shoulder with a huff. Remus snuggled up close again and kissed his jaw, causing Severus to tighten his hold on him.

"So," Severus muttered, changing the subject, "tell me about that wolf. Do you hear a voice? Does it talk to you?"

Remus chuckled slightly and shook his head. "No, nothing like that. The wolf doesn't have a voice to articulate what it's feeling, it is very simple and very extreme, that's why it wants to take over my body. It needs me. It is a mere animal presence. It is rather like a Dark shadow over me, a claw that reaches for my consciousness… instincts, emotions that aren't my own, that force themselves into my mind. And very strong emotions of my own like anger or joy are intensified and warped, causing break-outs; then it can become dangerous… either then or when the wolf's emotions take over. But that hasn't happened in a long time. In general it feels as if there were a second soul with its own feelings beside mine. It used to be stronger than my own but nowadays it only very seldom manages to overpower me, I don't usually lose control."

Severus knew that much. Remus was very good at controlling himself. He was usually calm and controlled. He needed to be, to stay safe. Needed to control his own emotions to protect them from the wolf's influence, to distinguish them from the wolf's violent ones. But some situations were too hard to bear even for him. And it was rather painful to look at when Remus Lupin lost control. It was as if the world were about to end.

"But just before the full moon you do, don't you?" Severus asked quietly.

"No," said Remus defiantly, "but the wolf's presence gets stronger and starts taking over my body. A hopeless fight for me, since I cannot win. It is hard not to give in, especially when I'm close to you…"

Severus was silent for a moment, then blushed slightly, thinking about very strong emotions, and cleared his throat. "But… now –"

"It feels as if my body were my own again," the werewolf murmured against Severus's skin and it made him smile.

In the end, he did let Potter pass.

From the windows in his rooms, Severus could see Remus walk along the edge of the lake after a short breakfast. On the way to his destination, the werewolf rolled up his sleeves and it made Severus curious as to where he was going, since he hadn't mentioned any plans to go to the lake. Severus convinced himself that he wasn't offended by the fact that Remus had failed to ask him to accompany him, and decided to follow and surprise the werewolf who was then blocked from view by some especially high reed at the far side of the lake.

He walked round the lake to where Remus had disappeared behind the reed and glanced round it to see the werewolf wading in the shallow water, his robes rolled up to his knees and elbows, his boots discarded in the sand of the bank and his hands searching in the water for who-knew-what creature he wanted to find. Severus smirked. A funny picture. The way Remus was bending over to peer through the reed into the cloudy water. Severus could see that he was having fun, with his bare feet in the mud. It was the expression on his face. Anticipation of whatever he was searching. It made Severus smile. What about himself, though? What did he enjoy doing? Brewing? That fulfilled him but… was it fun? Did he ever have fun?

"What are you looking for?"

Remus looked at him over his shoulder and straightened up with a crooked smile and a moan, his spine cracking slightly. "The Grindylow population," said he. "I want to set mine free again when I leave. He's been nice company but he just doesn't belong into such a small tank. I don't want to put him too far away from the others. Last time I looked they were round here somewhere. But I haven't found any yet."

Severus caught Remus's arm when he stumbled due to his foot getting stuck in the mud and he stepped closer to steady him. "Careful."

Remus just chuckled and turned away, resuming his search. "Will you help me?"

Severus snorted. He would certainly not wade through the water, looking for Grindylows. "I will help you not to fall over."

Remus chuckled again. "You're missing something, this is fun. You wouldn't believe how many different species I've already found."

"No Grindylows, though?"

"No, indeed, they don't seem to be very fond of me…"

"You kidnapped one of them, probably they want to take revenge," smirked Severus and stepped closer to look over Remus's shoulder.

The werewolf laughed. "But you'll surely save me, won't you, Severus?"

"Well, I cannot just let you drown, the mob of angry students would lynch me." Severus snorted again and leant forward, trying not to step into the water while he seized Remus's arm when he stumbled once more. But this time he couldn't pull him out of the mud, he was sinking down.

"Severus," said Remus, holding onto his arm very firmly, "I think there's something pulling me do–!"

And before Severus could react there was a firm pull on his arm and he overbalanced, falling forward with Remus and splashing into the lake head first, taking a mouth and nose full of water in his surprise. Severus whirled round, sinking rapidly due to his heavy robes, his eyes searching for Remus's face in the now completely muddy water and he saw the other choke on his laughter, trying to throw off a Grindylow that was holding onto his ankle determinedly. Severus drew his wand and pointed it at the ugly creature which was thrown back and into a thicket of algae. Then he reached for Remus and pulled them both to the surface with immense effort. Their robes were making them both so heavy and they were so much in the way that he barely managed to get onto his knees before running out of air. He hugged Remus firmly to his chest and spit out the brown water he had managed not to swallow, sputtering and coughing in the process.

All that would have been an awesomely dramatic rescue mission, had it not taken place in only one and a half foot deep water. He didn't feel like Remus's saviour much. He had to admit to himself that he was feeling a bit of a moron. He wiped his face and combed back his wet hair, his chin resting on Remus's shoulder. They were both breathing raggedly, kneeling in the muddy water, soaked, disheveled and dirty. Severus shook Remus slightly, making him chuckle and cough. Their situation was so absurd. They must look absolutely ridiculous. He snorted and shook his head.

"Headline, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, survivors of the war, were found dead in the Black Lake at Hogwarts yesterday. As it seems they drowned at the bank in the most shallow spot of the lake, after having been surprised by a Grindylow while they were looking for it. This will enter history books as the most hilarious fatal incident ever," muttered Remus, picking algae from his robes.

"_You_ were looking for it," said Severus as drily as he could in his wet state.

"Yes, right, of course. Remus Lupin dragged Severus Snape to his untimely death, shame on him!"

Suddenly Severus couldn't hold back his amusement anymore and burst out laughing like he hadn't laughed in… probably his whole life. It was strange even to his own ears, so he wasn't surprised at Remus's startled smile when he turned his head to look at him. He tried hard but he couldn't stop, he couldn't even breathe. He just laughed. And pressed a kiss to Remus's wet temple.

Suddenly Remus kissed his lips, capturing his laugh like Severus had done with his so many times before. It tasted earthy and mouldy. He was sure there was sand in their mouths. And when their lips parted Severus's laugh still hadn't died from his lips. Remus joined in and while they were trying to clamber out of the water, helping each other (or rather throwing each other over, again and again), they got very weak in the knees from all their laughing at the top of their lungs. When they had finally fallen into the dry sand and grass, breathless and soaked, Severus smoothed Remus's wet hair back and rested his head on his damp chest.

"You were right," panted he, "that was fun."

Remus sighed and hummed in agreement, his chest rising and falling in a soothing rhythm.

"Will you set me free, too?" Severus asked quietly.

"No," Remus whispered pleasantly, "your company is too precious to me. You'll have to do with the small tank."

Severus smiled. In truth, the time without Remus was the tank. Now he felt free. And yet shackled. But shackles he could live with. "At least we found the Grindylow."

"At least," Remus sighed, "we've found something much more important than that. Finally. Now that I've accomplished all I wanted, I can leave without regrets."

"What are you saying, you dunderhead?" said Severus with a confused chuckle in his voice.

Remus sighed again. "Never mind," he said and ran his hand through Severus's wet hair. "I'm just feeling a little dizzy, is all. You really did save me, after all."

"I saved you?" mumbled Severus. He held Remus tightly and time was nonexistent.

Later that day, all dry and clean again, Severus could see Remus's third-year exams from the window in his sitting room. An obstacle course. How very unusual. Hogwarts would definitely lose a rather special member of its staff this year. Of course when Potter had mastered the course Remus bent down to him to tell him how awesomely he had done. Severus smirked to himself, running his index finger over the rim of the Wolfsbane goblet. He set it down onto the mantel and picked up that cursed piece of parchment which had fallen out of Remus's robes the night before. Severus had only discovered it this morning and now he considered it carefully, tempted to either burn it or find out what it was. It would be no good, though. Instead he put it into his pocket to take it up to Remus's rooms, and left his quarters for the next Potions exam.

"The last day of the exams is over," Remus said when Severus joined him in his rooms where a house-elf seemed to have prepared two dishes of dinner on Remus's coffee table.

"Yes, finally," Severus answered and held his breath for a few seconds. It wasn't a good thing, he realised.

"Hagrid's Hippogriff will be executed tonight," mumbled Remus in a heavy voice. Severus nodded. All year he hadn't corresponded with Lucius, Remus had occupied his mind all the time, had left no room for others. Severus hadn't even thought about Lucius or Hagrid at all. He hadn't even tried to do something against the execution. He felt guilty. But it would pass. There were other things he felt even guiltier for and the death of a Hippogriff wouldn't stay with him for very long. Maybe Hagrid's tears would.

Severus pulled the parchment out of his robes and held it out to Remus who took it quickly. "Oh, thank you, I've been looking for it all day. I thought I had lost it."

Severus scowled a little but decided to let the matter rest. The sky was cloudy and the setting sun made it look as if it were filled with bloody cushions. They ate dinner in silence and Severus kept glancing at Remus who reached out a hand after a while to take Severus's and hold it. When it started getting dark outside he cleared his throat.

"Will you come and stay with me tomorrow morning? I need to get my affairs settled before I leave. I'd rather do it as soon as possible to get it done and over with and waste no more thought on it. I'd like you to keep me company," he said with a sad smile and Severus nodded.

"I have some work to do myself, I'll bring it. It is not sure that you'll need to leave, though…" he answered and Remus's smiled saddened even further. Severus rose, then he hesitated. "And you are sure that you don't want me to stay during –"

"Yes," Remus interrupted him firmly and stepped towards him, "thank you."

He smiled and kissed Severus gently, laying his arms round his neck. Severus brushed his fingers over his silky cheek and when they broke apart he licked his lips, took the unruly lock of golden-grey hair in Remus's forehead between his fingers and let Remus brush his curtain of black hair out of his eyes.

"Come soon, will you?" breathed Remus and Severus nodded, bringing their foreheads together, laying his arms round him. He wasn't fond of such silly touches – no – he had ceased to loathe them. He wanted – needed them. And he could barely step back to turn to the fireplace. The other still smelt of the muddy water. He picked a tiny piece of algae from behind Remus's ear. And smiled.

"I love you," said the werewolf.

Severus took the Floo powder from the tin and looked into those golden eyes. "Hm…" he said and nodded.

"You needn't answer, you know?" smiled Remus and sat down on the armrest of the sofa, taking the parchment into his hand.

"Yes," Severus objected, "I must."

Then he left through the fireplace with Remus's sadly confused eyes on his back. He stepped out of his own fireplace with a furrowed brow and gathered together all the exam papers that lay scattered over the whole sitting room rather absentmindedly, wasting at least five minutes on the search for a list that he had been holding in his hand all the time. By chance his eyes fell on the mantelpiece and with a little start he realised that the goblet standing on top of it had not found its way to Remus's lips all day. So, he took it and hurried to the cauldron with the Wolfsbane in his laboratory to fill it with the Potion. On his way up the stairs Severus heard the gates of the Entrance Hall shut after hurried steps had flown over the marble floor. Severus suspected that it was Potter hurrying to Hagrid's aid as if he were a damsel in distress but he chose to disregard it for Remus's sake. It wouldn't do to let him lose his mind and destroy his office. Severus did have a responsibility to care for him… yes, care for him.

So, he hurried to the other's office and opened the door to find the room empty. Severus looked into the sitting room and called Remus's name but there was no answer, so he set the goblet down on the desk in his office and crossed his arms, deciding to wait when his eyes caught sight of that old parchment, spread out on the table with a map drawn on it. Severus took a closer look and started. So it was a map of Hogwarts like he had suspected, and there were tiny dots moving about the drawn castle, labeled with names. Severus skimmed the map quickly, his mind alert now. His own dot was indeed in Remus's office, Dumbledore's was in his, pacing. But where was Remus's? There! Beyond the Whomping Willow in that forsaken passageway!

Severus straightened up and took a few deep, heavy breaths. So… what did it all mean? Had Remus hidden this from him because he wanted to protect the boy or… because he wanted to protect… himself? What had he seen on the map that had made him leave so hurriedly and imprudently, even uncharacteristically heedlessly, at such a moment, in such a night? Remus's dot vanished from the map, as if it had fallen off the edge. The Shrieking Shack was his destiny. A place where nobody went, a place whose background was only known to Dumbledore, Remus, Severus and…

It all made sense, terrible, painful sense. First Severus felt dreadfully cold with what he wouldn't admit was fear, and then boiling anger rose inside him and he crashed his fists against the wooden desk so hard that it cracked. It couldn't be! It mustn't be!

But it was. Or maybe not?

It was Remus's task to explain it, to bring light into the matter, to tell Severus that it wasn't true, that he had never betrayed him, had never lied. That everything was fine. And Severus was very interested in how exactly he would do so. He longed to hear it, longed to believe it when he did. He wanted those lips to promise him that it meant nothing and that he was his, he wanted them to seal it with a kiss. He wanted to see him. Immediately.

On his storming out, Severus didn't even notice that he had left the faintly smoking goblet of liquid security behind on the table, being illuminated by the very last ray of the setting sun before falling into complete darkness.


	28. Mistaken

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the passges borrowed from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: I hope that someone finds the moment when Remus checks Severus's pulse :). Difficult chapter.

**Mistaken**

Severus had lost track of time. He had no idea how long it had taken him to run as fast as he could from Remus's office to the Whomping Willow but it seemed like centuries to him. When he was standing breathlessly out of reach of the beating branches, his eyes scanned the ground for something to still the tree with. Suddenly he caught sight of a gleaming object in the grass just beside him and he picked it up, holding it before his face. An Invisibility Cloak. _Potter's_ Invisibility Cloak most probably. So the brat was in this matter, too, whatever it was. Severus would have smirked, hadn't he been so terribly upset.

He reached for a broken branch lying on the ground and prodded the knot on the Willow's trunk to freeze it. Then he threw the Cloak over his head and made for the tunnel. He would never have believed that he would set foot in it again. Severus almost had to crawl rather than walk along the path and though his heart was hammering and his blood was boiling he didn't hurry. Suddenly, finding out what was waiting for him at the end of that tunnel in the Shrieking Shack, didn't seem such a good idea anymore.

Twice Severus wondered if he should just turn around and go back, forget that it had happened, but he couldn't. He _needed_ to know. But it frightened him. His hands were shaking when he put them to the ground to climb the steep end of the passage to the opening that led into the Shack. There was a dim light coming out of it, illuminating his hands under Potter's Cloak. Though he had walked slowly, Severus had reached this point in no time it seemed. Too little time, he thought. He wasn't prepared.

He could hear muffled voices and swallowed, straining his ears. It was the Granger girl, then – yes, it was him – Remus, then the girl again and again Remus and then – Severus's breath hitched and he scrambled onto the floor boards of the landing to get closer to the door behind which everyone was hidden – a hoarse, croaking voice, much more so even than Remus's, it must be him, there was no one else who it could be. And yes, when Remus's voice spoke again, it affirmed Severus's darkest suspicions.

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius."

It sounded so natural as if they had always been in touch. And they probably had. The rest was muffled and Severus, angry and confused and many other things on top of that, stepped towards the old door and pushed it open without thinking, causing a loud creaking noise that attracted all attention to where he was standing. He stopped dead, held his breath. Remus had turned towards him and was now literally looking right through him. Then, very suddenly he strode over to him and Severus needed to jump out of the way noiselessly to avoid a collision. He wasn't used to being invisible.

Remus looked out into the landing. "No one there…"

Severus crept to the wall when Remus turned back to the three brats who would hopefully be expelled this time around, and tried to make no noise at all, knowing of Remus's sharpened senses round the full moon. He pressed his back to the wall and took a few deep breaths. The conversation going on in the room he didn't catch. He was too nervous right now. He could only hear his foolishly hammering heart. He only fixed Remus, his soft hair, the curve of his jaw, the small scar he had used to kiss… had used to. But no more, as it seemed. The past was a mocking creature. Now or then Remus would turn his head so that Severus could see his profile and he started catching single words from those soft lips.

Wolfsbane, Dumbledore, Animagi… they didn't make sense to him. It was like a fairy tale. And all the while Severus tried not to think of Remus's hands and lips and skin. He tried to think of his betrayal, of how deeply he had injured him, of how terribly he had used him. He couldn't. There was so much hope for an explanation in that flood of words that it wouldn't die.

But then, Severus heard that loathed voice and his eyes darted over to the dark corner it was coming from, noticing that the whole time his eyes had been glued to the werewolf. At least Black's sight gave Severus some satisfaction. The photographs had not exaggerated. Azkaban had destroyed his annoying handsomeness, and all that was left of Sirius bloody Black was a dirty, broken, ugly figure. At last he didn't have anything anymore that Severus didn't have as well.

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, his sunken eyes on the Weasley boy, and Severus wished he could jump at his throat for using Remus's name with his filthy mouth, for talking to him like that. What did it all mean? Remus was obviously helping Black. He had known all along how the other had got into the castle and now it seemed as if they had never stopped being friends. And… weren't they standing awfully close to each other? Severus was freezing. He barely caught a word that was spoken when his eyes darted to every one of the five people in the room. He hadn't believed it possible that he could really loathe anyone more than Potter, but when his eyes moved from the boy to Black, his anger only increased.

Why hadn't he burnt the map? Why hadn't he? None of this would have happened, he would never have found out about Remus and Black, and he would have lived on in bliss. And betrayed. And, yes, Black did have something that he didn't: Remus's loyalty. All year Remus hadn't said anything about Black's methods to get into the castle and now he was here, with him, instead of up in the castle with Severus. And probably that wasn't the first time, either.

Suddenly Severus's name was mentioned and he looked up and listened closely to how Remus explained that they had been school mates and that Severus had not wanted him at Hogwarts and that Black had played that life-threatening trick on him. All that was well but then Severus could hardly trust his ears, could barely hold down the cold fury inside him. He called him jealous of James Potter. It was one thing to say so in private to him and another to say it to people like them in a situation like that. He called him nosy, sneaking after him to find out what he had been hiding at school. As if counting one and one together at school had been anything other than a proof of his intelligence. He made it look as if Black's joke hadn't been that bad at all and didn't even scold him for it, didn't even give him one angry word for it, not even a reproachful look, if that wasn't telling, putting James Potter into a blindingly heroic light that disgusted Severus immensely. And most importantly, he called him "Snape". He had never done so. Never. It was as if the usage of the name was free of all respect for its carrier.

Had he been that blind? Too blind to see Remus's frame inclined to the madman, the relief in his eyes when looking at him? The murderer? And what of the familiarity in their interaction, the softness in Remus's voice? Had he been too much of a fool to notice that Black and Remus's connection would win over their young one? That it had probably only been a hoax. A trick. A distraction. The attempt to gain valuable trust by whatever means? It was hard to believe. Especially after Severus had long discarded the thought, sacrificed it to the trust that was supposed to bind them even closer. But Remus was a good liar. He had explanations for everything, even tonight. This time Severus wouldn't believe him. Remus was so dependent on his friend's affection that he'd do anything, right? Even act as if he loved Severus. He didn't. How could he really? How could he see more in him than a tool? Like everyone else. He had thought Remus wasn't like everyone else but this man… couldn't be the Remus he had spent so much time with. Or maybe the man he had been with wasn't Remus.

So treachery was a werewolf trait, after all? Severus was still breathing heavily and he blamed the pain in his chest on the agitation he was in. It had all been a lie. It must have been. And he had fallen for it. He had been naïve, reckless. At least he wasn't at fault for this end to whatever it had been they had shared. It was the worst he had felt in a long time. But he was determined not to show it.

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Potter slowly and Severus stared intently at Remus's back drawing a deep breath, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," Severus sneered, though it had long ceased to be right, and pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of himself, pointing his wand straight at Remus like he hadn't done in months. There was nothing left to listen to. All was clear.

Granger screamed, Black leapt to his feet from where he had been sitting and Potter gave a violent start. Remus had turned to him and was looking at him calmly, as though he knew that this was the end. Of so many things. Severus wished he'd say something. Wished he'd tell him that he had come just in time to save him. That he was glad he was there and that he had only made Black believe he would help him. But of course it wouldn't happen. Because all the guilty looks and all the secrecy and the calling of Black's name near the one-eyed witch made sense now and because right now there was just that in Remus's eyes: guilt and disappointment. It had all been about Black and nothing about Severus. Black was the one Remus cared most about. In the end he had hidden more than he had shown. Severus had been right about him. He wished he had believed himself enough to avoid this terrible situation of being torn between two opposing emotions. He wished he hadn't believed Remus. He wished he had continued to hate him. He wished he hadn't followed him here.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Severus said and dropped the Cloak to the floor, keeping his wand mere inches from Remus's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you…" I thank you for the opportunity to discover this dirty betrayal. Thank you for giving me the chance to take revenge.

"You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

Severus was only talking to Remus. This was between the two of them and he wasn't interested in the children and not in Black. Yet. Right now it was Remus whom he wanted to look at. Whose lies he wanted to see in his amber eyes. The lies he had mistaken for love so many times. Severus's emotions were in a chaos. He didn't only waver now, he crashed, and he wanted Remus to crash, as well.

"Severus –" Remus began, but the name from his mouth didn't have the soothing and tingling effect it had used to have after everything else that had been uttered.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamt you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout –" Severus interrupted him and he was dreadfully satisfied by Remus's increasing agitation. He was in control now. They were at his mercy. And he wouldn't give it easily, if at all.

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Remus in an urgent voice. "You haven't heard everything – I can explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry –"

But Severus had enough of his explanations, had fallen prey to them far too often. He wouldn't let him convince him this time. He wanted to protect Black? Well, he could keep him company where he was going to, if he loved him so!

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Severus said, determined to make that threat come true but not sure if he would be able to. "I should be interested in how Dumbledore takes this…" he continued, knowing that Dumbledore's trust meant much to Remus and knowing what would hurt him even more he added, "he was quite convinced you were harmless, Lupin… a _tame_ werewolf."

But reducing him to this animal state didn't seem to help Severus, it rather gave him another stab in the chest when Remus replied.

"You fool, is a schoolboy grudge enough to put an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

It was such a hard contrast to "my dear". It told Severus all he needed to know. It wasn't the grudge, but Remus didn't care. He thought him a fool for doing all of this. A fool for being hurt by Remus's actions. How could he love him, know him, care about him when he talked to him in such a way in this situation? Indifferent to his feelings. Obviously it wasn't important anymore to make-believe. Oh, yes, Severus was a fool. For letting himself become so weak. For letting himself believe in something, someone good to happen to him. To feel something other than hatred. Severus had got so used to the warm breath whispering his name that the coldness of Remus's voice stung in his ears. But he wasn't the one to be punished. It was Remus.

BANG! Thin ropes flew from Severus's wand so quickly that Remus had no chance to react. They bound Remus's ankles, wrists and mouth and this delicate frame that he had caressed often but not often enough, whose traces he still felt on his body, crashed to the floor and Severus felt cruel satisfaction at the look of pain in his golden eyes that had enchanted him so and still tried to plead him to stop. They almost succeeded. But Severus wanted Remus to hurt, to suffer. Terribly. Like he did.

And wasn't that a lover's roar, coming from Black's mouth when he leapt towards him? Wasn't that the reaction Severus would have shown if anyone else had hurt Remus? The thought made him even more furious and he pointed his wand directly between Black's eyes. Remus was supposed to be _his_.

"Give me a reason," he whispered, though he already had plenty of reasons. "Give me a reason to do it and I swear I will."

And being in control was the only thing keeping Severus on his feet. Having the power over that hated rival, being able to intimidate him like this was the only thing keeping him from breaking down now. He wasn't weak. He couldn't be. Even though he had lost all that had made him feel special and worthy in only one moment.

Then, as if out of some other dimension, Granger stepped towards him and said, "Professor Snape – it – it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you're already facing suspension from this school. You, Potter and Weasley are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_."

"But if – if there _was_ a mistake –"

Severus was unable to control his rage and he didn't even know what he shouted at the girl, only that he did shout and that he saw Remus flinch in the corner of his eye. None of them knew what he was feeling right now. None of them knew this dreadful feeling. So why couldn't they just shut up? Didn't they see that he could barely hold himself together?

Whatever he said to Black, all he remembered after saying it was that it was rather evil and full of malice. He heard himself talk but didn't realise that his lips were moving. His old defence mechanism. Just keep talking so they won't notice that you just want to crawl into a dark corner never to come forth again. He told Black that he wouldn't reach the castle with his soul still in place, ignoring his panicked babbling, and he clicked his fingers to make the ends of Remus's cords fly into his hand.

He glanced down at the werewolf and narrowed his eyes. This is your doing! he thought and he knew that Remus could hear it. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –" he said coldly and saw those golden orbs widen in terror and fill with painful tears before they turned away. That precious soul of his that could obviously not be tamed by Severus's kiss, it would be ripped out by the Dementor's. It would rip out Severus's soul, too, but that would be just as well. He wanted to get rid of it to erase the pain. Because Remus's scrawled handwriting on it could not be erased.

When Severus looked up, Potter was standing before him, barring his way. And though Severus told him to step aside he didn't, instead he told him all those things that he already knew. That Remus had had many opportunities to kill him but hadn't, and that there was no apparent reason for such behaviour if he had been Black's accomplice. But Remus always had explanations and Severus could see where it had led him.

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Severus hissed and the ropes tightened round Remus's body when his uncontrolled magic pulsed through them. Remus gave a little squirm, whether because of the ropes or because of what he had said, Severus didn't know. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" the boy yelled and Severus's anger became more vicious with every word. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN –"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Severus screamed and it was as if all control over himself had slipped from him, as if the chaos inside him had taken over. He felt as if he were going mad with pain. It was a dreadful feeling.

What did the brat know? He knew nothing of this! He had no right to criticise him! All Severus could manage now, as a kind of automatism, while keeping his voice as level as he could, was another speech about Potter's ungratefulness, that everyone must have noticed by then, and about his similarity to his condescending father. And yes, he wished him dead. Right now he did. And yet he would protect him. No matter how much he hated him. Severus wondered if Remus would be as lucky as the brat tonight or if he would be sacrificed to Severus's pain. Severus's soul was lost to him, couldn't be torn from his. And Black had stolen that soul that his own was woven into. Remus had made his choice. They weren't equals after all. How should he handle that? Had he only stayed lonely in the first place. He would never have known such pleasure… and such pain.

Severus was about to force his way past the boy when there was a choir of "_Expelliarmus_" and everything went dark.

He wished it would stay like this, for in a blissful dream all was well, he was lying between the silk sheets of his bed and Remus was by his side, a gentle hand holding onto his wrist. But when Severus opened his eyes again he was lying outside in the grass, beside the Whomping Willow. He was a little disoriented and his head was throbbing painfully. He reached out tentatively to where Remus should be lying, in the hope that he was hallucinating, but there was no one there, he was alone. He got up, staggered a little and tried to focus. It was silent around him. And terribly bright. He gazed up at the sky and saw the full moon, round and mocking, above him. What had happened since he had lost consciousness? Where was Remus? And the others? He hadn't brought the Wolfsbane. If anything happened it would be his responsibility.

Swaying backwards Severus almost fell over the Weasley boy who was lying unconscious on the ground. Severus felt annoyed for a moment that he had let himself be caught off-guard by the children, then he reached for his wand. It wasn't there of course. Severus sighed and got on his hands and knees to see if it was anywhere near. After five minutes of feeling and squinting through the darkness, Severus had finally found it and conjured a stretcher for Weasley, peering into all directions in search for traces of the others.

Suddenly he heard a howl and whipped round. Then a yelp and distant screams. They were coming from the lake. Severus hurried over the lawn, yet before he had gone ten paces his foot kicked something on the ground and it flew a few feet forward. Severus bent down to pick it up. It was Remus's wand. He looked at the carved wood and for a moment he thought about just snapping it. He didn't. He couldn't. It felt good in his hand. Instead he put it safely into his pocket and continued on to the lake, glancing around, alert, just in case the werewolf might turn up.

He was met by an unusual sight. Hundreds of Dementors were gliding over the grounds and away from the lake, obviously retreating to their posts. Severus was far enough away to keep the effect of the Dementors at bay, though he already felt as if he were hollow, as if his soul had been sucked out. Not even the fury and the pain were there anymore. Only emptiness. But that wasn't better. It was as if insanity would overpower him any second. He would surely have lost consciousness a second time had he been any closer than he was. But if that had meant returning to the silk sheets and the hand on his wrist, he wouldn't have minded. As he peered through the darkness, he saw Black, Granger and Potter all collapsed by the lakeside and was prepared for the worst.

When the Dementors had cleared out, Severus stumbled down to the lake and fell to his knees beside their victims hoping that Black had lost his soul. But no such luck. All three were physically fine. But why? Why had the Dementors left? Had there been something to make them leave such easy prey? Black had a few scratches that looked as if a werewolf had inflicted them. Severus hated the fact that Remus thought Black could see him as a werewolf without being appalled and Severus couldn't. At least no one had been bitten. They had all been lucky. Severus, too.

He looked round. Not far from here Remus and he had shared a sandy kiss just seconds before. So many centuries before. He couldn't make the place out in the darkness, couldn't see the high reed behind which they had knelt in the water. The laughter in the lake, the passion in early March, the kiss in the passageway… it had all been a lie. Right from the very start. It hadn't meant anything to the werewolf. Yet so much to Severus. He had been fooled. He hadn't been lucky at all. Severus wanted to scream.

There was a howl carried towards him by the wind. He couldn't stay here. Suppressing his fury Severus bound and gagged Black, summoned stretchers for them all and hovered them up to the castle, picking up Weasley on the way. When he was almost at the gates he turned to the Forbidden Forest, straining his ears to catch the distant howls of the one who had been precious to him.


	29. Agonised

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world (including of course the passges borrowed from PoA) belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Second to last chapter. We're nearing the end. I apologise for the long wait, exams are coming up. Thanks again for your great comments, they are appreciated :).

**Agonised**

As soon as Black had been shut up in Professor Flitwick's office (he had coincidentally wandered the corridor Severus had been striding through with the four stretchers) and the children had been brought to the Hospital Wing, upsetting a confused Madame Pomfrey immensely, Severus went to send a letter to the Ministry and then to rise Albus. Flitwick stayed in front of his office, his voice even squeakier than usual, ready to fight under the sacrifice of his life to keep Black there. Severus hurried past the Gargoyle and up the winding staircase to hammer against Albus's door. After a while it swung open to admit him and he strode inside furiously.

Albus, dressed in his nightshirt, descended the stairs sleepily and eyed him in curious confusion. "I think I do interpret your vicious knocking correctly, if I assume that there is a problem, Severus?" he said quietly and Severus barely managed to let him finish his sentence.

"Oh, yes, several!" he burst out and started explaining what had happened, leaving out the bits with Remus and himself, causing Albus to vanish into his bedroom to put on his robes and leave his quarters with Severus. Severus had reached the end of the story by the time they arrived at the Hospital Wing. Albus hadn't said a word throughout the whole account, just stared into space seriously, like he was staring at the three children now.

"You've got a cut there, Severus, my boy," he said suddenly and Severus reached for his temple which was still throbbing. The blood had dried.

"Yes, I told you –"

"And the Dementors were chased away?"

"I think so, but –"

"You informed the Minister, Severus?"

"Yes, I –"

"I will speak to Black. When the Minister arrives, please tell him all you have told me." With that Dumbledore left and Severus was compelled to wait, sitting down on a bed, refusing to let Madame Pomfrey heal his temple. The physical pain distracted him from the hollow feeling inside him.

Whom would Albus believe? Well, Severus could guess, really. But it wasn't Albus's responsibility. The Minister was in charge. And Severus could be quite the hero and rather polite, wishing only the best for his students.

Severus walked to a window and looked at the full moon resentfully. He couldn't believe that just a few hours before he had kissed the werewolf, had held him in his arms, shared his bed with him. For the last time. How had his lips tasted? How had his body felt? Why hadn't Severus noticed any sign of betrayal in him? All year? He was such a fool. He wasn't who he had used to be.

All those past months seemed like mere days now. The fewer hours like years. Good times always seemed short. Agony stayed for ages. How was he supposed to survive this? Now that what he had feared had come true. Regret. Because he could not erase all those feelings, would miss them. Him. Would suffer from the loss. And he wished it back; that moment of oblivious bliss in early March. But it wasn't a surprise, he had known all along that it would end. Or had he?

Only half an hour later the Minister arrived with Flitwick and Severus met him in the corridor, greeting him in as polite a manner as he could manage. He couldn't keep his mind from drifting off into the Forbidden Forest. In fact, for the half hour he had been alone with his thoughts they had been full of that agonised howl. Those pained golden eyes. But Severus was the one who had been hurt. Why was he feeling so ashamed?

Severus told the Minister a shortened and polished version of what had happened, making himself a hero, the saviour, leaving out most of Remus and putting in a lot of Black. He even protected Potter and the other two by saying they had been bewitched, even though he knew that the three of them didn't need to have a Confundus Charm put on them to be so foolish to knock him out and help Black and Remus. He was promised an Order of Merlin Second Class, maybe First, and told Fudge exactly that he wanted Potter to be expelled and why. Not that he believed that would happen. But it was worth a try.

Suddenly they heard shouting in the ward and entered it to find Potter out of bed and looking shocked. He immediately started entreating the Minister to spare Black but luckily he wasn't taken seriously. He was a child, and Severus wasn't. That was the big difference in their stories. When Granger began to babble, too, Severus thought he needed to speak up to defame them a little more.

"You see, Minister? Confunded, both of them… Black's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" roared the boy and Pomfrey was about to throw them out when Albus entered the ward. Potter seized the chance to try and address him, and again Pomfrey tried to throw them all out but Albus wouldn't let her.

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr Potter and Miss Granger," said he. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black –"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted into Potter's mind? Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive –" Severus interrupted him. He had a bad feeling already.

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Albus and gave him that look of his. That 'I know that you acted too rashly again, so don't give me that tone'-look. Severus knew that he wasn't the one who would be believed tonight. No matter how loyal he had always been. It was so unfair! He always did everything wrong, no matter what he did. The Gryffindors were the heroes and he was always the bad guy. He hated it. He hated how Dumbledore supported it.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" he snarled petulantly. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him in the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor," Granger said and it made Severus's blood boil over. He didn't need a reminder of the fact that he had been knocked out by three children in front of Remus. And that Remus hadn't cared, obviously. "You didn't arrive in time to hear –"

"Miss Granger," Severus managed in a level voice before it betrayed him, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

Those blasted emotions. Severus barely registered what Fudge said to him or that he was thrown out by Dumbledore. He didn't move an inch. Just stared at Albus willing him to believe him, trying to look straight into his mind, though he didn't have a chance to do so.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" he asked and Albus's answer told him that, yes, he did believe every single word of it. And that, no, Severus's evidence didn't count for anything.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone."

Well if his word didn't count, what about his life? What about Black's deathly potential? He took a step forward. "Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," Severus breathed. There was still revenge in order. There was still punishment to give, wasn't there? He had never been punished properly. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill _me_?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was."

That was all it took for Severus to understand. Not even his life counted anything. He wasn't important. Hadn't ever been. Was a tool, after all, nothing more. And of course Dumbledore wouldn't do him the favour to make Black suffer for everything he had done. For what he had done tonight. It made him furious. It made him desperate. Severus turned on his heel and strode out of the Hospital Wing to make his way upstairs and to Black, accompanied by Fudge. He walked fast because he knew that there was something to happen. He would watch the Kiss. He would make sure it was performed! No matter what Dumbledore said. Tonight he wanted to be triumphant over Black. He wanted to show him how it felt to lose everything, to be absolutely helpless. He wanted to see how he lost his soul. To see how the one who had stolen everything from him disappeared. And he wanted to see how Remus would suffer from it.

"I only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Severus said when they had almost reached Flitwick's office. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the _Daily Prophet_ that we've got him at last… I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape… and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the _Prophet_ exactly how you saved him…"

Severus smirked then, but not because of the interview, because he would be present when the sentence was performed. And because Potter would never say anything good about him. As vice versa.

"So what about that Lupin?" Fudge asked and Severus hesitated.

"He… it seemed to me as if he had helped Black."

"Ah, well… a werewolf. I really don't know how Dumbledore could accept him here. It is no surprise that such a creature would do evil!"

Severus didn't answer. His jaw set. He tried not to be angry at Fudge for saying that. After all, he didn't care, did he?

Fudge hurried after him and was out of breath by the time they reached the office where Flitwick was waiting. Macnair, his old Death Eater colleague, soon joined them in the company of two Dementors. He nodded at Severus who just ignored him. He didn't want anything to do with him. His left arm twisted of its own accord as if the Mark on it had just reappeared from a long absence and it made him feel uneasy. That skull on his arm suited him quite well after all, didn't it?

Severus couldn't feel worse than he already did. Or so he thought. But when he stood between the creatures he heard "You fool" echoing in his head over and over again, so cold and unloving. There had been no affection in that voice at all. It had been void of all emotion. And there was only one thing that was worse than hatred: indifference.

"Open the door," Severus said quietly to Flitwick and the little wizard looked at Fudge insecurely.

"I think we should wait for Dumbledore, Snape," said Fudge.

"I don't care if Dumbledore wants to be there or about what he has to say! You are in charge not he! So open the door!" Severus snapped and the other two looked at each other. Then Fudge shrugged and nodded.

"The sooner, the better, I think."

So Flitwick took the Sealing Charms off the door and opened it, the Dementors glided inside and Severus after them but when he looked round there was…

"No one here," whispered Severus and whirled round to Flitwick. "Where is he?"

"I… I don't understand! I was here all the time!" Flitwick squeaked hysterically and Severus looked out of the window. He didn't see anything. There wasn't a sign of him. The only thing visible was a feather, silently soaring through the air.

"Im-impossible!" gasped Fudge and Severus's eyes narrowed.

"Impossible, indeed."

He turned, stormed out of the office and marched back to the Hospital Wing in angry strides, followed by Fudge who babbled in on him about how that could be possible. Severus knew how. It was the boy. It was always him. And when they met Dumbledore in the corridor the Hospital Wing was situated in Severus knew by his expression that he had helped.

"What is the matter? You look upset," said Albus good-naturedly. He could at least try and conceal it.

"He's gone!" Severus cried. "Black's gone, can you explain it?"

"Oh? How is that possible?"

"Do you really wonder? I think we both know what happened!"

"I don't think I follow you, Severus…"

"I don't see a way how he could have escaped," said Fudge.

"He must have Disapparated, Severus, we should've left someone in the room with him. When this gets out –" Dumbledore said and Severus hated the way he acted dumb.

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE! YOU CAN'T APPARATE _OR_ DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!" Severus roared beside himself.

"Severus – be reasonable – Harry has been locked up –"

Severus had enough of his calm satisfaction. He was making a fool of him. It was one of the worst treatments he had ever received from Albus. He burst open the locked door with a crash and strode inside.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape! Control yourself!" shrieked Pomfrey but all control had already been lost. And Severus wasn't interested in what anyone else had to say. He knew that Potter was behind it all. But after he had shouted some more at two weak and, as it seemed, innocent children, Dumbledore silenced him.

"Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see a point in troubling them further."

Severus was fuming. He stared from Fudge whose shocked face he wished to punch to Dumbledore whose twinkling eyes he would have liked to rip out. Why did he do this to him? Why was he being betrayed by everyone tonight? He hated it. He wanted them to suffer like he did. He hoped that when Remus returned to the castle he would be arrested. And at the same time he wished he hadn't done to him what he had. Because all this wasn't only about Potter or Black, it was mostly about Remus.

Severus whirled round and stormed out of the ward with his robes billowing behind him. He felt as if his insides were being torn apart. The churning of his stomach was so painful that he barely made it to the dungeons where he slammed the doors behind him, shattered the glass cabinets once again with a surge of angry magic while passing them, and wrenched open a window in his bedroom. He felt Remus's skin on his own, smelt his scent in the room. He wanted to forget it all. He wanted to get rid of it and act as if it had never happened. As if none of it had ever happened. But it had. And it had been wonderful. That was the problem. He choked on the memories and cried out his agony over the grounds. This pain was unbearable.

Severus seized his head and bent over the windowsill. He knew such pain. He had felt it before. But not in such intensity. It didn't pain him that Black had escaped. It angered him. What pained him was that everyone lied to him, used him, betrayed him. All night he had seen the true faces of those he had trusted. He had seen Dumbledore's before, but Remus's was a surprise, a shock. How could the same face have looked up at him lovingly in that very bed so many times? How could those cruel lips have soothed him with the sweetest of words? How could everything have been a lie, a farce? Why hadn't Severus noticed where Remus's loyalties lay?

Severus reached into his robes and closed his fist round his wand. Only that it wasn't his when he pulled it out to put the lights on. It was Remus's. It still felt good in his hand and it hurt terribly to look at it. Severus couldn't keep it close. He needed to bring it back to Remus's office. Even the name hurt in his head. It would hurt on his tongue, too, he was sure. It was best not to use it anymore. After all, he had lost the right to use it anyway. As Remus had lost the right to use his.

Severus kept staring at the wand in his hand but didn't see it. Instead he saw Remus's body crash to the floor, and felt the pain as if it were his own. He hated to be the one who felt guilty and he hated the way he had been fooled. The way he cared. When his eyes swept over the grounds he noticed that the sun had risen and only a few minutes after the first rays of light had touched the Forest a staggering form came stumbling out of it.

Severus could feel every step Remus took towards the castle in his own legs, every painfully searing step. He wouldn't stay there to watch him fall to the ground over and over again, hoping he wouldn't get up again. Because he wished to help him, to run out there and steady him. Because it had been his fault as well that the werewolf had run wild. But he wouldn't give in to that feeling.

He turned round and staggered to the bathroom. When he looked into the mirror he noticed for the first time his distorted features, the lines of misery on his desperate face. And the shame. He averted his eyes and turned on the water, letting it run over a washcloth. He stared into the transparent stream for a few moments, an when he raised the cloth to his forehead to clean away the blood he was careful not to look at his own face. He didn't want to see it ever again. He was grateful for the stinging pain where the rough fabric touched the wound, because it made every other feeling easier to block out for the moment.

Once his forehead was cleaned up and the washcloth, stained with his blood, lay discarded in the basin, Severus left his rooms, Remus's wand back in his pocket and walked up the stone steps to get to Remus's office and back before the werewolf reached the castle. In the Entrance Hall he saw Fudge who was leaving and Albus who was seeing him out.

"Well, in that case, we won't arrest the werewolf. But, really, Dumbledore, it is irresponsible to let him teach here," said Fudge and Severus froze.

"It is my responsibility, Cornelius, and I beg you to keep it quiet. The poor man has gone through so much," Dumbledore said pleasantly and Fudge nodded.

"Good, good, and do tell Snape that under the circumstances I cannot give him the Order of Merlin, as there has been no real achievement after all."

"Of course, Cornelius."

Severus backed off into the shadows. So Remus would get away unscathed. And he would stay at the castle. Severus would need to see him, need to feel that terrible pain, every day. He couldn't. He wouldn't survive it. He needed him gone, and he would really make him go this time. The shame, the betrayal, the regret. He couldn't bear it. Suddenly there were voices in the corridors deeper in the dungeons and Severus started. He pressed against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to do something. Something that was bound to make the werewolf leave. Draco Malfoy's cold laugh reached his ears and drew nearer. The werewolf. Of course. He had promised, maybe, that his lips were sealed, but then again, those who betrayed him couldn't count on his loyalty.

Determined, Severus stepped out of the shadows and into the way of Draco and his fellows. He could rely on their spreading every bit of compromising information very quickly. "I'll accompany you to breakfast," said he and they nodded, startled, proceeding to the Great Hall. "It has been quite a busy night. You were lucky to be in your dormitories. After all, we wouldn't have wanted any of you to be Professor Lupin's breakfast."

They stared at him and when they entered the Hall Draco asked, "Sir, what do you mean, 'Lupin's breakfast'?"

Severus raised a would-be surprised eyebrow. Cruel satisfaction crept into his body when he formed the words in his head, the words that would make Remus suffer like he deserved it. The words that would make everything disappear. All of it. "Don't tell me that you didn't hear any hungry howling from the grounds tonight…" he said suggestively and deciding that that was all it needed to transmit the message, he left them and went to the High Table, watching with satisfaction as the news was broken to all the other students, one by one, until the Great Hall had turned into a buzzing bee hive.

Of course his behaviour had consequences. Remus had obviously managed to stumble into the castle and up to Dumbledore's office for the good news of his resignation reached Severus right after breakfast in the form of a fuming Minerva McGonagall. She scolded him and told him that she was very disappointed in him. Why wasn't anyone disappointed in Remus? Severus was. He had never been more disappointed.

"You really don't have yourself under control, do you? The Headmaster wants to see you," Minerva said coldly and Severus swept past her, bracing himself for trouble. It didn't matter. He had reached his aim, even though it didn't cheer him up. At least it didn't make him feel worse either.

"I don't know what caused you to do this, Severus," Albus said seriously. He hadn't offered him a cup of tea, not even a lemon drop. The seriousness of the situation was quite apparent.

"I wouldn't suppose so," Severus snarled and fixed one of the silver instruments on Albus's desk.

"Severus," said Albus and gave him a sad look, "whatever impression you are under, whatever betrayal you suspect… I'm sure you have been victim to a misconception."

"What do you know about it?" snapped Severus. "He lied not only to me but to you as well, he endangered everyone. He doesn't deserve what you grant him. I don't want him here."

Albus sighed. "Have you never thought about the possibility that Remus might have done what he did because he was afraid of our reactions? Because he couldn't bear disappointing us?"

Severus huffed. "I don't care about his selfish reasons or his missing backbone! Had he told the truth from the beginning none of this would have happened." That was right. Nothing of it would have happened. Neither the sweet words nor the kisses, the embraces, the… _for Merlin's sake_. Severus clenched his fists. All that _would_ have happened for sure. But he wouldn't have lost it. He would still be in utter bliss now. He cursed Remus in his mind. Cursed him for this horrible mess he had caused.

Albus sighed again and shook his head, sitting back in his chair. "I know it is none of my business, Severus but… I am sure that Remus cares about you very much. And I am sure that none of the pain he caused you was intentional."

"You're right," Severus muttered, not in the slightest surprised by Albus's knowledge of their close relationship, "it is none of your business."

"You know, Severus… Remus had resigned long before the message of your slipped tongue reached my office. It wouldn't have been necessary. He was very upset, a nervous heap, and disgusted by himself to a very unhealthy degree, and I could say nothing to convince him to stay. He was very relieved to hear that no one had been bitten and he inquired after your well-being in particular."

Severus didn't say anything. He knew if he hadn't been so absent-minded he could have prevented the incident. But it was easier to blame it on Remus. He had so wanted to see Black that he had just left, forgetting everything, neglecting everything for him. He should live with the consequences.

"He is in an abysmal state, Severus. He wishes he could talk to you. He is packing now, maybe you had better see him before it is too late."

"It already is too late," said Severus and touched his head which was still throbbing. "He has made quite clear where his loyalties lie."

Albus was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and folded his hands. "Does your head still hurt, Severus? Or is it your dignity?"

Severus shot him a venomous glare. He didn't know anything! His dignity had been torn up by many hands in the last hours, not least of all by Albus's. But his dignity hadn't been lost. His soul had.

"You see, my boy, when Remus resigned he told me that what he'd miss most would be your sense of responsibility, even if it wasn't to his advantage last night. Even though you might not have realised, Remus's health has improved rapidly under your care."

Of course he had realised. It had been his most important concern. "If he wants the Wolfsbane he can forget it! I will not waste any more time on this _worthless _werewolf," Severus growled but Albus shook his head.

"You misunderstand me, Severus. What Remus was saying was that people underestimate the healing effect of waking to see a caring face," he said quietly and Severus narrowed his eyes, his stomach churning painfully. "It wasn't your Potion, Severus, it was you he was referring to. And I am sure that you have experienced something similar."

"What… What else did he say?" Severus mumbled despite himself, aching with curiosity. He needed to know what Remus had defended himself with. If he had confessed anything. If he had said any more nice things about him. But Albus shook his head.

"You should ask him that yourself."

With that he let Severus leave, more ashamed than ever and with the same searing pain in his chest. It was Remus's fault, not his. Yes. It was Remus's betrayal. Remus's fake trust and his fake affection. And even if it hadn't been fake… Severus could not forgive him.

In the end Severus couldn't resist the urge to go see Remus in his rooms. He strode past the hidden staircase with the vanishing step and the memory connected with it quite naturally, impertinently, appeared in his mind, but this time it had a bitter aftertaste and Severus shook his head furiously to chase it away. He was in this situation because he had opened himself to someone, trusted him, for the first time in many years, and the only thing that dunderhead had in mind was going and disappointing him, destroying all they had shared. Or had they? Had _anything_ been real? Or did Remus and Black laugh at him behind his back because he had been so naïve? The thought made his insides feel as if they were being ripped to shreds. Most probably they did. He just wanted to let himself fall to the marble floor and stay there, waiting for the pain to subside. Severus's heavy steps echoed in the corridor. It didn't matter. It was over now, that he had taken care of. Once and for all.


	30. The Forgiving

Title: **The Teacher**

Disclaimer: Everything that's part of the Harry Potter world belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Pairing: SS/RL

Author Notes: Alright, here it is, the last chapter. First of all **I'd like to thank everyone** for sticking with this story for such a long time and for all the nice comments. I am glad if I could make you happy with this story, if you didn't find it a waste of time, if you enjoyed reading what I tried to put into words here. That's what a writer wants most ;). I was relieved to read in many comments that I was more or less successful in keeping Remus and Severus in character, for I know how annoying it is to read a story where all that's left of the characters are their names. **The Teacher** ends here but there is another note at the end of this chapter that I hope you will read.

Everything started with the title of this chapter, I asked a friend for a random word and she said: forgiving. And suddenly this whole story was in my head :). I like this chapter a lot, it's one of my favourites. Speaking of favourites: which chapter did you like best? I'm interested. For me it is Tea, I just enjoyed it. I'd really like to know **which one was your favourite** :).

By the way, I was asked in a comment if I was a professional writer. I was really flattered but unfortunately I do not write professionally. Maybe one day if I get lucky, after all I'm still young ;).

**Thanks** again everyone!

**The Forgiving**

Severus was standing in front of Remus's office, staring at the door. Suddenly he didn't feel ready to face Remus anymore. He shouldn't have come. He should simply have crawled into some dark corner of the dungeons and waited for the werewolf to depart instead of coming here. His fist was closed round the other's wand, his throat was tight and his tongue was heavy. He thought about what he should say or do, if he should say anything at all or just be silent. He wondered whether Remus would tell him the truth and if he could bear it. He wished he knew which Remus would await him inside, the one he had known all year or the one he had met in the Shrieking Shack. He asked himself if he really wanted to go in or if he should just drop the wand there and leave to never see him again.

He wanted to see him, to touch him, to talk to him. But at the same time he was furious. He hated him. And yet… that other feeling, right there, yes there… that wasn't hatred. No, it was… Severus shook his head and screwed up his eyes, willing the pain in his chest to be quiet. He was feeling numb. And hollow. And he wanted his soul back. Wanted his old self back. He wanted to be indifferent. He wanted Remus to be the one to suffer more than him. He bit his lip when the image of Remus's serene relief when looking at Black came to his mind. What had brought that expression to his face? What was there that Severus couldn't provide? Why had he been so full of pretence all year? So full of lies and secrecy if not to lure Severus into a trap?

It was maddening. And even more so was that stubborn feeling inside of him that just wouldn't disappear. It had no right to be there. There was no reason for it to be there. But not even the disappointment or the fury inside Severus could kill it. It was making the pain so much worse. And the stinging in Severus's eyes which he blamed on the sleepless night. Maybe it was best to just leave. But he didn't want to. His feet didn't. So what should he –

"Do you want to stay in front of the door all day or are you going to come in, Severus?" Remus's voice said from within the room and Severus started. That blasted map! Had he only burnt it. Now there was no turning back. He wouldn't make even more of a fool of himself by running away like a coward. He would stand his ground.

He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The tank of the Grindylow was empty. The goblet with the Wolfsbane which was still standing where Severus had left it the night before wasn't. He swallowed. His eyes didn't want to find their way to the werewolf who was bending over his desk. But his ears couldn't refuse to hear his husky voice.

"Good morning, Severus," it croaked and it made Severus shudder unpleasantly. His name from those lips stung in his ears, more than any malicious laughter could ever have done. He wished for laughter now, he wished Remus would laugh at him instead of... "I've just set my Grindylow free in the lake…" He forced himself to look up and let his eyes consider Remus closely. His torn robes were hanging loosely around his shoulders, he had dark, almost black, rings under his eyes, scratches in his face and on his hands and he was paler, so much paler than Severus had ever seen him. Remus was looking at him with serene eyes. With those amber eyes whose shine, which had so often been directed at Severus, was now gone. The premature lines on his face seemed to have deepened, the misery that Severus had caused him had been etched into his features. He looked so much older. He looked as if he had cried.

Severus didn't say anything and let the silence stretch. He didn't know what to say. They just stared at each other for a while. He was feeling like a student, under the severe eyes of his teacher. But no – not severe – weary; helpless. At a loss of yet another way to make him a better person, to show him what was important, to teach him all he knew. Yes, Remus's expression was tired and sad and filled with as much disappointment as Severus was feeling. Severus averted his eyes and fixed the goblet with its cooled down contents. Why should he worry, why should he care? The werewolf had got what he deserved. After a few minutes Remus bent his head sighed.

"It… it might interest you that I didn't… eat… anything last night. I know you would have felt responsible," he muttered and rubbed his neck, glancing at Severus who just gave a curt nod. Another minute of silence followed until Remus opened and closed his mouth again twice without saying anything, as if searching for words.

"I am sorry you lost your Order of Merlin," said he quietly and his brow creased.

"You cannot lose anything that you never possessed…" Severus growled, annoyed by the topic.

Remus smiled vaguely and it looked as if it were painful to him. "I understand you were rather angry about it…"

Severus turned his eyes away. As if such a trinket was the reason for his anger. As if it would hurt him like this. "I _am_ angry," Severus snarled.

Remus nodded, smile still in place. "Well, I hope it soothes you a little that I'm leaving."

It should, shouldn't it? Severus thought and shot him a glance. But it didn't. Remus's desk was tidied up, his shelves were empty and his suitcase was waiting beside the table to be opened. Through the secret door leading into what had used to be Remus's rooms Severus could see that the threadbare armchair was gone, as well as the Gryffindor flag, and there was no trace left of the many books and photos that had been there until the day before. Only two stains on the coffee table, from two tea cups, standing side by side in the same place every time, nothing else was left. It should satisfy Severus, but it didn't. It made him feel sick. It made his heart sink and his stomach feel as if there were a rock inside it. His throat was so tight now that he couldn't reply so he just shrugged.

"I heard that you felt compelled to – ah – inform the students of my condition."

"It was your own fault," Severus pressed not feeling guilty in the slightest. Or so he told himself.

Remus was silent for a few moments, then he sighed. "I would have left anyway, Severus. You didn't really think that I would stay here after having endangered all of you so severely?"

"I didn't know what you'd do… I just knew what I couldn't let you do," said Severus quietly.

Remus hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if it is good or bad to be able to think that it was that curse which made all this happen… it is easier to blame it on _him_ than to take all the blame on oneself," said he and looked up at Severus. "But I do not deny that most of the blame is to be put on me… it's just… how much of it was us and… how much of it was the curse… if it was the curse that closed my mouth and if it was the curse that made you so blind with fury…"

Severus's left arm twisted and he gave it an angry look. It was absolutely true of course… had he really forgotten to bring Remus the Potion into the Shack, or had it been the Dark Lord's power that had wiped his mind blank? That had made his fury stronger than his reason? That had made him break his promise to Dumbledore and to Remus? He shook his head. That was a question without an answer. The fury had been triggered by the pain, the pain had been triggered by the disappointment which had again been triggered by… Oh, it was entirely Remus's fault!

"Everything that went wrong last night was entirely my fault…" said Remus and Severus looked at him. It wasn't half as satisfying to hear that as he had thought. "Peter's escape, the endangering of the children… of you, your suffering… the situation in itself was my fault… it could have looked much different if I hadn't made so many wrong decisions. And yet… I think everything had a reason. For an innocent man might have lost his soul had I decided differently…"

"Innocent," Severus snapped sarcastically.

"Yes, Severus… I am sure that you have realised by now that Sirius is not a murderer…" said Remus earnestly.

"I don't care if he committed those murders!" Severus cried angrily. "He – is – _not_ – innocent! You know that he isn't! You know what he did to me and what he nearly did to the both of us! No murderer? Well, that doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve punishment!" He took a deep breath and turned away from Remus only to whirl round again. "And you – you defended him! You helped him, after everything you told me and I told you – as if nothing had happened – pretence! All of it! Trust – hah! – you never trusted me all year and yet you lured me into that trap! Another part of your construction of lies! I wonder if anything you said to me was true, if anything we did was real, or if it was just a lie and an act."

Severus knew that he wasn't speaking coherently anymore – no poetry from his mouth today, only despair – but he just couldn't find words for all the thoughts in his head and before he had finished one sentence, the next came to his mouth and needed to be uttered. Remus listened without interrupting him but his jaw had set and his brows were knitted. Severus wished he would interrupt him so he wouldn't have to say all those things. He wished Remus would say that he understood, that he _knew_. But the werewolf kept silent.

"And Black! The way you looked at him – don't think that I didn't see how you looked at him! A fool – yes – you were absolutely right, I let you make a fool out of me. It is true, I shouldn't have desired you! I should have known from the start. I should have known that your interest wasn't in me but in him!" Remus bent his head then and shook it slightly, heaving a shaky sigh. Severus didn't know how to interpret that, didn't know if he should stop or if he should go on. But he was good at going on about things so he did. "And as if that hadn't been enough you talk to the brats about me in that disrespectful way, you talk to me in that cold voice and though you weren't the last to tear my dignity apart that night, you were definitely the first! I cared for you and you spat in my face! You saw it! I know you saw it, because you always see everything! You saw what I was feeling and yet you turned to him and away from me! I thought you knew how that feels, or was that a lie, too? You say I was blind with fury and I bloody well wish it were only that because I can handle fury. But what I cannot handle is this confounded disappointment, this feeling of having been betrayed after I had trusted someone for once! This horrible regret! And when I was standing there face to face with you I just wanted you to suffer! I wanted you to feel what I was feeling! I wanted to hurt you!"

His voice broke and he tried to hide it by turning away and taking a deep breath. That was all. He couldn't say anything more. There was only one more thing that burnt on his tongue. But it was much too late now to utter it. He should have made up his mind and loosened his timid tongue earlier. Much earlier, he knew. He was feeling ashamed. So very ashamed of himself.

"Well…" said Remus in an almost shaky voice, "it makes sense."

Severus stared at him incredulously, taking in his calm features, his sad eyes, the quiver in the corners of his mouth. "It makes sense?" he repeated slowly before he raised his voice in angry frustration, "IT MAKES SENSE? I BROUGHT YOU THAT BLOODY POTION TO YOUR ROOMS AS FAST AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO SUFFER AND I ENDED UP MAKING YOU SUFFER AS HARD AS I COULD! DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE TO YOU?"

Remus didn't flinch, just closed his eyes. "I certainly hope so…" he said quietly. "That is why I was scared yesterday. I wasn't sure if you really would turn me in to the Dementors… I'm still not sure."

"Neither am I," said Severus truthfully. But what he was sure about was that he wouldn't have been able to live with it. No, he really wasn't the same. Or maybe he had just forgotten that this, too, was a part of him. Suddenly he noticed that his fist was still curled very tightly, almost painfully, round Remus's wand in his pocket. That was the only part of Remus that he had a firm grip on. And yet, it wasn't under his control. He couldn't break it. He couldn't give it back. He couldn't keep it. He needed it.

Remus stepped closer to him and Severus could see the red bruise on his face where the cords had bound him. Where they had shut his mouth for saying something other than "I love you". Severus screwed up his eyes when his stomach sank even lower and his throat tightened once again. He had lost control. He hadn't behaved like a human. He felt so ashamed of himself.

"I understand," said Remus and nodded.

"Oh, stop it!" Severus snapped and Remus gave him a startled look. "That awfully false politeness of yours is making me sick!"

Remus looked at his hands for a moment before replying. "What would you like me to say?"

Suddenly Severus was fuming again. "I don't like you to say anything! I _expect_ you to explain, I _expect_ you to apologise!"

Remus nodded again. "I thought you wouldn't want that."

"I don't! I don't care for your apologies or your explanations! Why should I even listen to something that I cannot believe?" cried Severus exasperatedly and he was annoyed as ever by Remus's calm posture and his patient expression. But they were his defence, his armour. Severus hated the fact that he had made Remus put them on again after he had helped him lower them such a long time before.

"I am sorry that you think so," said Remus in a pained tone and Severus huffed. It made him angry that the werewolf hadn't even tried to deny any of the accusations Severus had thrown at him. "And I don't know how I can help you to understand if you won't listen."

"I do understand," Severus snapped defiantly.

"I don't think so," Remus contradicted him seriously but didn't elaborate. He seemed to choose his words very carefully, as if he were afraid to say something that would make Severus angry. But Severus couldn't get any angrier than he already was.

There was a short silence between them in which Severus's blood threatened to boil over under Remus's golden eyes. He was burning with curiosity, he wanted to hear what Remus had to say, why else would he have come here? But if it wasn't the truth how would he know? And did he really want to hear the truth? He was torn, a state that Remus was very good at inciting in him. Severus sighed and screwed up his eyes, folding his arms. It was no use hiding his pain. It had already been seen.

"You have made your choice, what else is there to explain?" he muttered in an unusually dull voice.

"I haven't made a choice," said Remus quietly, "because there was nothing to choose between."

Severus shot him a deathly glance. "Oh, I see! So there was no him or me in the first place!"

Remus smiled sadly and shook his head. "You didn't listen. You never listen. You keep walking out on me. That makes everything even harder. Severus…" he said. It was a plea, like the other night before the full moon, but this time, it wasn't uttered in pleasure but in dreadful pain and it made Severus's stomach churn. Had he ever been able to please him at all, or had he always only hurt him? And what did it matter?

"Sirius is all that's left of a life that I held very dear. I didn't want to accept that you'd take that from me without even listening to the whole story, knowing how much it means to me. I was angry and agitated. And I know that I made a mistake by talking to you in such an insensitive way while I was aware of the pain and trouble you were feeling but that doesn't mean that I chose Sirius over you." He took a deep breath when Severus started to interrupt but continued, "All the choices that were to be made I left to you. Because I was too cowardly to make them myself. And that is the reason why I lied to you about my knowledge of Sirius's capabilities. It was self-protection, I didn't want you to hate me. It was too late to tell you the truth. I lied to myself, too, I disappointed myself… I told you I hadn't changed. I meant it."

Severus stared at one of the patches on Remus's robes. Hope was eating on him, but he wouldn't give in to it. Hope was something terrible. It would surely kill him. Remus was a liar. He had admitted to it. A coward on top of everything. So many things that Severus had not expected to find in him anymore. It was tearing him apart. He shook his head. "You did this to me. You destroyed me," he whispered.

"It was horrible of me to make you suffer like this…" Remus replied quietly, his voice unusually bitter. He heaved a sigh. "I suppose that it won't change anything if I tell you that whatever you suspected to be in the way I looked at Sirius, it wasn't there? Or if I tell you that I never lied to you except about my background knowledge of Sirius's break-ins? If I tell you that everything between us wasn't a lie and it wasn't an act, that it was true and real? If I say that I do trust you, that I wouldn't have shared so much with you if it weren't so? Or if I apologise for my behaviour towards you and the way I talked about and to you last night? For the pain I caused you – all the pain that I failed to soothe?"

Severus looked at him, carefully avoiding those golden eyes, two cauldrons full of Felix Felicis… not for him to drink, though. He shook his head slowly. His words didn't change anything. Severus had known all the time that they were coming. Remus nodded once more and took a deep breath.

"Then probably, nothing that I can say about the last night will make a difference," he said quietly and Severus just stared at him. "You see, Severus, I'm in pain, too," he continued and gripped the edge of his desk tightly. "Because I am at a dead end. I barely dare say it but I love you."

Severus turned to the window and his brows knitted. "Stop those lies! They're unnecessary now," he hissed, while the searing pain in his chest was only getting stronger.

"I'm not lying!" Remus said firmly and stepped in front of Severus. "If nothing I can say will change anything then let me say this: Love is omniscient, it is not just the happy sides and it isn't only painful. In the past year you have caused me more pain, more suffering and despair, more sadness and anger than I have ever felt in my life.

"But you have also brought me more happiness and hope, more pleasure and joy and solace than anyone has ever let me experience. And that is what love is about. It's not just happiness and strawberry fields, it is painful and yet sweet. It's about being there for each other and about hurting each other and healing one another. It is about perfection and disappointment, about honesty and lies, about loyalty and betrayal, trust and doubt, mistakes and forgiveness. It is about being oneself and knowing one another in completion. Only those who can give all that and bear to receive it know how real love feels. Because where there is only happiness, there is no complete person and no complete love."

Severus looked at him and his grip round Remus's wand tightened even more. He knew that feeling of wanting to be aware of Remus's complete person. He had tried to find all his sides at the beginning of the school year. Remus's many faces, his every expression. Had he seen them all now? And could he bear it? He felt too weak. Very slowly he pulled Remus's wand out of his pocket and looked down at it. The carved wood felt so good in his hand. But he couldn't use it. It seemed to him as if there was no magic between them after all, since if there were, he would have power over it. And even though you could mend porcelain even without magic there would be cracks left. And he couldn't bear the cracks.

Severus felt Remus's eyes on him and raised his own. Remus seemed extremely relieved to see his wand in one piece, though startled at Severus's sudden decision to produce it. Severus held it up still considering it silently, while Remus gave him a curious and expectant look.

"Thank you very much for retrieving it, Severus," he said quietly but didn't hold out his hand and Severus shot him a glance.

"I didn't mean to. I just happened to stumble over it," Severus muttered monotonously.

"I see… then, I thank you for taking it along," replied Remus and his expression became more anxious. This short exchange of words sounded so very strange to Severus. So completely void of the strong emotions that had filled their voices before. "I believe I have lost my right to be its master?"

Severus looked him in the eye and wished it were true. He wished that from that day on it would be his wand, for overpowering the werewolf, but… he swished it to the right and it left a trace of randomly exploding objects on Remus's desk instead of making an ink pot fly.

"It doesn't work for me," Severus answered darkly and held it out to Remus resentfully. He would have to let go of it.

Remus raised his eyebrows and took it from him, carefully touching his fingers on which he left burning traces. "Maybe it's because of the children –"

"No," Severus interrupted, "they are no fully qualified wizards. It should be my wand now, but it isn't, and I don't know why."

"The wand chooses the wizard." Remus mended the exploded things and smiled sadly. "It felt as if my arm were missing," he muttered. Then he looked up and into Severus's eyes with that knowing look of his. Severus huffed.

"If you know why it is, then say it."

Remus sighed. "Well, you might have succeeded in making me suffer, you overpowered me and you were in control… you have my dignity, my confidence and my self-esteem… but there's something else you have…"

"And that is?" Severus asked impatiently.

"My forgiveness."

Severus stared at him in angry incredulity. "Excuse me?" he said. "I don't recall asking for forgiveness."

"No, indeed, and yet I forgive you."

"I – I hurt you intentionally, I wanted to give you to the Dementors, I injured you physically and bound you like a criminal, or an animal for that matter, I told your secret to everyone and I did all this on purpose! To make you suffer!" Severus rambled and with each word he felt the guilt creep further into his conscience, making it heavier and heavier. He hadn't meant for all this to happen. He hadn't had any interest whatsoever in saving or hurting anyone, had just wanted to bring back his werewolf. And in so doing, he had lost him. And himself.

What if Remus had told his secret? That he was a former Death Eater. What if he had used all his knowledge of him to make him suffer? But he wouldn't, would he? He hadn't. He hadn't made any use of the secrets Severus had entrusted him with. He had hurt him, yes, but he hadn't betrayed him in that particularly cruel way. It was annoying how very ashamed his actions were making Severus feel. Revenge didn't taste sweet at all. It was very bitter. "I just wanted to hurt you… It was supposed to make me feel better…"

"I know…" replied Remus, his golden eyes sad.

"Then why – ?"

"Love is overall and unbearable, and yet you cannot live without it anymore after you've found it. It is only the forgiving who will experience love in all its facets. Who will be able to hold on to it. That's why I forgive you, Severus. I do love you completely, even now. I don't regret anything that happened between us, and it hurts me to know that you do," he said quietly and there was a single tear running over his cheek. "Please… I never wanted to disappoint you, please forgive me what I have done, please forgive me the pain I've caused you. Please, Severus I beg you."

It was Severus's move once again. But this time he knew that he could only make it in one way. And Severus knew, too, that it was all his own fault. "No," he said in a whisper and Remus closed his eyes, gleaming tears escaping from the lashes. It hurt dreadfully to look at them. And it made everything worse that he could still feel him, smell him, taste him, hear him. He wanted to embrace him.

"One day, you will realise what you have rejected, that you were mistaken… and I will be waiting for that day, waiting for you to demand my love back. And I'll gladly give it," Remus said in a shaky voice and smiled. "Until then there'll always be a shadow of you with me and that must be enough… Even if we part, it will last. It will always be surrounding you, this feeling. You will never be able to forget it. Even if you want to. This love will always stay with you Severus. As it will with me."

Remus reached out a hand to touch Severus's jaw and let his warm fingers ghost over his skin for what Severus knew would be the last time. "I never said that I love you," he said and Remus smiled vaguely, giving him a quivering knowing glance.

"No, indeed," said he and leant in to brush his lips against Severus's with violent tenderness. It was all he could do not to kiss back and when Remus pulled back and he looked into his Gryffindor golden eyes, he regretted it. He regretted that he hadn't seized the chance to share this one last kiss. Regret… such a horrible feeling. Remus withdrew his hand and all the warmth Severus had felt since that very first kiss in the staircase drained from him and left him cold and freezing. All they had shared seemed to be tumbling into Remus's hand; he closed it around it all and when he opened it again Severus saw everything fall to the floor and shatter on the stone. And the loss of it felt ever so much worse even than the regret.

"I thank you for everything. I am endlessly grateful and I will always be there when you need someone. I love you so much, Severus," Remus said and Severus couldn't help but believe it. Nothing could have hurt him more than this stabbing feeling – right there – which was feeding the stinging in his eyes which he closed to stop himself from giving in to it. It was his fault. And he hated it. Remus had hurt him. And yet, Severus felt responsible. And guilty. But he couldn't change it. It was too late. Unlike Remus, he couldn't forgive. Nothing. And no one. Not Remus. And not himself, either. He wasn't grey, he was pitch-black. He would never again be able to look at Remus without feeling pain and guilt. He just couldn't forgive himself. Had all the bliss been worth this frightful pain, after all? Had it?

Remus stepped back from him and swished his wand to start packing his suitcase, retreating behind his desk. "Harry is on the way," he said quietly and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. "You should probably leave."

Severus looked at him for another moment, failing to be angry at hearing the brat's name, then he reached for the goblet on the desk, vanished its contents and turned to the door, taking it with him. He took a last glance round the office that he had so long wished to stay in Remus's possession and stepped out without another word, closing the door behind him, shutting in the painful memories of a long gone Christmas, a long withered mistletoe and a long cooled cup of tea. Merlin, it seemed to him as if a thousand years had passed since then. As if a hundred lives had been lived in lonely pain since then. He remained standing in front of the door for another few seconds, fully aware of the fact that Remus was watching him on that blasted map of his.

He set off to the dungeons in long strides, ignoring the hurried opening of the door and Remus's eyes on him, burning in his neck, following him, their owner restraining himself from stopping Severus, he could feel it. But Severus just kept walking, avoiding the corridors Potter would have to take to reach Remus's office. He wished for Remus to stop him, but what use was it? Severus knew what he was leaving, he knew what he was rejecting. But… forgiving? That was nothing he was likely ever to learn. And least of all he could forgive Remus for the guilt that grew ever stronger inside of him with each step he took. With each step taking him further away from the one who was so precious to him. The one he was precious to.

Severus knew why the wand had chosen to stay in Remus's possession. The werewolf had power over Severus that had only been strengthened not weakened the night before. Forgiving Severus had made him superior. Had shown that they were not equal, after all. Yes, Remus was the teacher and Severus was the student. And he had failed his final test, had run out of time before he could finish all the tasks.

And though Severus tried to run from it, the grief was following him at his heels. It caught up with him when he reached the Great Hall and noticed the carriage in front of the gates. The Thestral which was pulling it looked Severus straight in the eyes and he stopped in his tracks, staring back at it. Death was standing in front of him. Death was inside of him. It was in Remus's eyes as well. They had both been responsible for the death of what had been there. But only Severus had been unable to try and revive it. Nothing had changed, he was Death. And at the same time, too much had changed, making it impossible for him to go back to how it had been before Remus had stepped into his life.

Severus retreated into the shadows of the archway that led to the dungeons, when Albus entered the Entrance Hall, striding to the stairs and ascending them, probably on his way to tell Remus that his carriage was ready. Flitwick, McGonagall and Hagrid were gathered at the gates and seemed to be rather depressed, obviously waiting for Remus to tell him good-bye. Severus hadn't said good-bye, nor had Remus. Severus hadn't been able to, and Remus hadn't wanted to, he was sure, still believing that this was no good-bye. He leant against the cold stone wall, now no colder than his body was feeling, and stared at the small group, lingering, despite himself, to see Remus depart forever.

Only a few minutes later, Remus descended the stairs into the Entrance Hall, carrying the glass tank under his arm and his suitcase in his hand. It was as if time had slowed when he crossed the distance to the gates, when he awkwardly accepted the others' handshakes and words of comfort, eager to leave as fast as possible, ashamed of himself, of what had happened, Severus could see that; after all he knew him well. It seemed like years to Severus. Years in which he battled with the words on his tongue, 'Stay, please, stay'.

And just before Remus stepped through the gates, he turned towards Severus, his golden eyes shining across the Hall into the darkness Severus was standing in, two pools of gold, piercing him where he had thought he was hidden. Remus nodded at him and the mild, loving smile, though quivering, was so horribly intriguing. Sweet, yet bitter. He wanted to kiss it away. Like he had done with so many of his smiles. Oh, how he would miss the smiles. Severus stared at him and watched him turn back to the carriage, hurrying down the steps they had been sitting on that one evening in summer an eternity ago. The warm rain had stopped, and soil and stone were separating. And wasn't he hurrying because he didn't want the others to see his tears? Tears shed for so many things, but mostly for Severus? Tears of love and of all that lurked underneath the cover of that deceitful word, of all that silently followed in the wake of that complexly simple emotion.

The werewolf climbed into the carriage, vanishing from Severus's view – just like that – and the Thestral took off, down towards Hogsmeade and through the iron gates of the Hogwarts grounds, bringing Remus further and further away from Severus, making him feel as if there were a whole mountain falling into the pit of his stomach. And all the while that mocking feeling deep inside him, so clear to him now, was deepening the agony, intensifying the despair. Such horrible irony.

As soon as the carriage had disappeared, Severus turned round and walked slowly down into the dungeons, his steps echoing in the empty corridors. His rooms felt frightfully empty, the glass cabinets lay shattered on the floor and the many awards they had been filled with were scattered among them. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. The cracking and crunching when Severus treaded on the glass shards made him flinch. It was as if he were walking over the remainders of his agonised soul, of Remus's presence in the room, of all the time spent together. The memories of them were killing him. They were thrusting blunt blades into his weak, defenceless body.

Severus slumped down on the sofa and stared into the empty grate. He would have to get rid of this sofa. For right here, where he was sitting now, Remus had made that meaningful confession for the first time, the one that had changed everything, that had been the most enchanting and special and wonderful thing Severus had ever heard. He had never been loved before. He was feeling horrible. Lonely. He looked down at the goblet that was still clutched tightly in his hand where Remus's wand had been until only – had it been minutes? Or years rather? – until such a long time before.

Remus's finger prints were still there, clearly visible on the glass. Severus touched the gold rim and found the stains his lips had left behind when he had last drunk the Potion. And when Severus closed his eyes and opened them again Remus materialised in front of him, emerging from the traces he had left, smiling lips on the rim of the goblet, mischievous eyes shining up at him, deft fingers lacing around the glass so that Severus wished – _begged_ – for it to be him; any part of him.

"_Severus,"_ an echo of his voice sounded in Severus's head, so sweet, so tempting. But he wasn't there. He was gone. Severus couldn't pretend that it hadn't happened. It had been his fault. The image disappeared like smoke, dissolving into the air, returning to Severus's memory to be locked away safely with the others, never to be set free again and never to be forgotten. Severus placed the goblet into one of the cupboards in his laboratory to store it away in the darkest, back most corner of it as if he were hiding the most precious treasure, careful not to smear Remus's traces on the glass and gold.

Returning into his sitting room his eyes fell onto the bookshelf and he noticed the many unknown books in them, next to the two Remus had given to him. They were all the missing volumes to the collection. Severus's stomach churned, when he ran his numb fingers over their backs, pulling one out to look into it. He touched a finger to the note in Remus's scrawled handwriting inside the binding, 'To my dear Severus', and put the book back into the shelf with trembling hands. Looking out of the window at the Whomping Willow, Severus's eyes wandered over the chess table and he knew that, despite everything, the pieces would miss Remus, his mild requests, contrasting Severus's harsh commands. He could look anywhere, turn wherever he wanted, enter any room in his quarters, everything reminded him of the werewolf. The whole castle did. He would have to resign and move out.

Taking a deep breath, he turned only to find a white, silken cravat lying on the armrest of the sofa. He hadn't noticed it when he had entered and he reached for it in confusion, taking it between his fingers with a little start. It was the one Remus had lost those many centuries before, found and neatly folded by a house-elf. It still smelt like him. Severus stared at it for a while, then he put it into his pocket, running his thumb over the silk that wasn't half as soft as Remus's skin.

Severus's throat was so tight that he could barely breathe when he entered the bedroom, looking around at the cold emptiness of it, and he let himself fall down onto the bed on what had used to be his side. He looked to the left and Remus wasn't there. Wasn't lying next to him, smiling at him, reaching out a warm hand. Would never again share this bed with him. It would stay cold, like Severus. But it still smelt like him, felt like him and Severus could have sworn that he could still hear his chuckle and his sighs, so close to his ear, so close that he could feel his hot breath on his skin. He reached out a freezing hand to the other side of the bed, letting it slide over the icy silk covers to make sure, to realise, to make it clear to himself that there was no one there. That from now on there would be no tender kisses, no loving touches, no joint warmth under the covers anymore. Only loneliness. And that it was his fault. Shouldn't he have been able to succeed? To attain and apply the Gryffindor traits he would have needed to do so? Shouldn't it have been possible, just once in a Blue Moon?

Severus swallowed hard and gripped the silk tightly, looking into imaginary golden eyes and wondering. Wondering whether Remus would have acted differently, whether he would have trusted more intensely if Severus had told him that he had taken his heart – yes, his heart – all life within him, that his presence made everything else disappear, become worthless. That he would be left with nothing, would be absolutely empty, if Remus should ever choose to go. That he just wanted to hear that sentence from his soft lips one more time and then maybe another time, and another one, "I love you".

And Severus knew that Remus had been right, that this would stay with him. Forever. He knew it was true because he had experienced it before. But it didn't seem to become easier it was only becoming more painful. Because there was nothing equally magnificent as being loved. And even though Severus had never uttered those shackling words Remus would have liked to hear, he felt so very dependent, so very vulnerable. It was annoying. As was that blasted stinging in his eyes that he couldn't get rid of. That he couldn't deny the cause of, since for the first time in what seemed to have been eons, Severus felt a burning tear running down his cheek, over his temple and into his dark hair. He squeezed his eyes shut but he couldn't hold back those that followed the first. The lump in his throat almost choked him while he tried to hold back the desperate sobs that wanted to force their way out of his mouth. He wouldn't let them. His body was shaking with the strain. His vision was blurred and his chest and throat hurt dreadfully. This flood of the worst feeling was unbearable to him. He would surely die from this pain. From this hopeless yearning. He bit his bottom lip when an especially vicious sob managed to escape him, after all. It was so terribly annoying that he needed to cry about all of this. He, Severus Snape.

But the most annoying thing was that he just couldn't help wondering, while hot tears were pouring from his stinging eyes, soaking his black hair, if Remus would have chosen him instead of Black, if he would have told him everything he knew, would have forgotten his fear to disappoint, if everything and everyone else would have become worthless and unimportant compared to Severus, thus preventing all the events and betrayals and disappointments of the previous night, and all the horrible feelings following them; if it would have changed anything at all, had he only told Remus how glad he was to have him, how strongly he felt for him – no – that he… loved him.

_FIN._

* * *

A Last Note: Wow, this is a really strange feeling. So this is the end. I know many of you would have liked it to be happy, but this was what felt right for me.

Another thing I know is that you wanted this to continue in GoF. I have grown addicted to writing this story, I don't see it continuing in GoF, though. Originally I planned to continue in OotP, that seemed the right situation. But as of now I don't know how far I want to take this story, so I'll have to make up my mind.

I don't want to ruin this story by just continuing for the sake of continuing. If I write a sequel it will be in a separate story so that those who are happy with this ending and want to ignore the sequel can do so. For now, though, this story is concluded. **Thank you so much for reading.**


	31. Preview to the Sequel

**Preview of the Sequel**

Wow, time flies, and maybe some of you've already been waiting for this. So this is the short preview of the sequel I am currently writing, maybe some of you will like to follow me through OotP and further. I thought I'd post a little preview here for those of you who are interested in the sequel and to announce that it is coming, after all. The sequel will be divided into three parts: OotP, HBP and DH. I enjoy writing Severus and Remus again and I hope you will like it too. So, if you want to read it, just keep your eyes open for:

**Journey**

The grounds were tranquil and deserted in the semi-darkness of breaking dawn. Though the stands and the maze of the Third Task were still where the spectators had left them, shocked and confused, everything was still and silent, not even the birds made a sound. Only the discarded flags and banners on the ground told of the cheerful crowd that had celebrated their champions just a few hours before. Now an eerie calm lay over the place that had changed everything. The weight of death lay over Hogwarts Castle, and it lay on Severus Snape's shoulders when his feet touched the hard ground before the iron wrought gates protecting those who knew nothing yet of the horror that awaited them in the future. The soft _crack_ of his Apparition echoed over the silent grounds and the gates swung open with a squeal to let him in.

Firm steps carried him uphill, his black cloak whispering behind him on the moist grass. The rising sun cast long shadows on the ground and blinded Severus's tired eyes. When he was level with the Quidditch pitch, he stopped for a moment to look at the stands on which he had sat when the burning call shot through his arm had made him double over, considered the place where Potter and Diggory had appeared out of thin air only a few hours ago confirming what Severus had known and tried to deny. Then he climbed the stairs and pushed open the gates into the Entrance Hall. Everything was quiet, no one was up yet, shocked and yet so blissfully oblivious they lay in their beds, believing Diggory's death to have been a tragic accident. How lucky they all were. How unfortunate were those who knew better. Or worse.

Severus descended the stairs into the dungeons where the darkness seemed absolute and the corridors endless. He was thankful that nobody crossed his path. His legs carried him to his rooms and with a look over his shoulder he entered. He closed and locked the door and when he had made sure he was alone he slumped against the wall and sank to the floor for his legs wouldn't carry him any further. He buried his face in his trembling hands with a shaky sigh. His nerves were not nearly as good a he'd have liked them to be. In fact he was glad he had made it back here.

He was aching with tense fear and his arm was still pulsing with a burning pain that had barely ceased ever since the call had come. Though Severus had known that the day would arrive when the Dark Lord returned he had not been prepared. He had not been ready. He had thought there would still be time. He had been deceiving himself. About many things.

…

**Coming soon.**

Actually I just wrote this sequel for myself and I enjoyed writing it, so I'll be glad, if some of you follow it. But if you don't want to read any further and like to think of this story as finished then just ignore **Journey**, instead of spoiling** The Teacher** which is just as dear to me, or even dearer still ;).


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